


Blood Loyal

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: The Sherlock!Wizardverse [2]
Category: And a smidge of BBC!Sherlock thrown in, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Independent Harry, M/M, Magic, Timey-Wimey, Werewolf, Wizards, good guy draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 153,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angelo Tobias Watson-Holmes has lost everything. His parents, his wife, his son, and his will to live. Filling his life with his work and his drinking, he has shut himself away. Then one dark and stormy night the Unspeakables came a'knocking with a question. A very important question that if left unanswered could mean the fall of the Potter-Malfoy dynasty and the rise of a Dark Lord…</p><p>   <i>Goes AU after OoTP. Timeline shifted to the 1920s.</i><br/><i>*Story is on hiatus.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The Prologue is the ONLY chapter that does NOT take place during Draco and Harry's 6th year. It'll also probably be the longest chapter in the whole thing because we didn't want to spend the first four actual real story chapters introducing this guy to you because you'd probably get rather bored and want to move on to the drarry bits.  
> Starting with Chapter 1, we will be in the Harry Potter end of our fanfic universe.

He could smell the ozone in the air from the periodic lightning strikes. Through the layers of old wood and tacky wallpaper. Through dust and insulation. The fire in the grate burned low. Just barely enough to fight the chill of the wet night. His hands busy with the small chip and PIN machine the local grocer had brought to him that afternoon for repair. His mind busy with other matters while his mouth dictated to the flat, slim computer pad nestled amongst his tools.

"A warm London day, it was," he said clearly. "When news of the Jaria Diamond surfaced. Our father, Sherlock, had in his youth been offered the case when it had first been stolen. Unlike the first Consulting Detective, Hamish welcomed the danger of the case."

He stopped speaking, his face contorting in deep concentration as his hands continued their work. "Command mode. Delete document." He waited for the alert to chime that the command was completed. "I'll not be writing that one today."

With a sigh he rifled through his mind, losing himself briefly among the infinite corridors of the imaginary bunker base. He had just selected a rather thrilling adventure that had led himself, his brother, his sister, and a miniature poodle through the Berlin criminal underground when his thoughts were disturbed first by an unfamiliar scent. Then by an abrupt banging on his front door.

A frown turned into a scowl as he put down his tools and glanced to his computer pad. "Command mode. Shut down." This time, he did not wait for an alert.

Rising from his stool he stretched his arms over his head. Silently he used his magic to tap into the wards of his cottage. There were three of them. Two witches and a wizard. Moderately powerful, but better than most. He pulled his magic back and lowered his arms. He checked that his wand was nestled in its holster, strapped to his wrist, and left the workroom.

He closed the door behind him, muttering a locking spell as he heard once again the forceful banging at his door.

He heaved a great sigh and made his way towards the front of the cottage to answer.

Swinging the door open he continued to scowl at his trio of uninvited guests. A sniff of the air and his wolf senses caught the unmistakable odor of the stagnant water fountain in the ministry's main reception lobby. Staff entrance, he figured, was the one they had used. He only knew the water had been stagnant because the fountain had broken shortly before his last visit, to file paperwork after…

His unwanted guests stood there on his front step, looking back at him expectantly.

"Go away," he said. "I'm retired. And my paperwork is all in order down at the beastie division in the magical creatures department. Kept up to date, real regular like. Registration renewed day before my birthday every year since I was nineteen." He paused for breath, but quickly continued to cut off whatever it was the wizard among the trio was going to say. "I've not done any magic around or to any muggles. And I'll not take part in any ceremonies nor think tanks. For all political and fiscal matters, see my elder sister, as she is head of my family since my dad's passing, rest his muggle soul."

Having said his peace, he started to close the door. Unfortunately he was forced to stop when the man's arm was put in the way. "Mr. Holmes-"

"Watson," he said monotonously.

"What?"

"Mr. Holmes was my father. And are my brothers. I much prefer Watson. Simple and inconspicuous, which is how I like it. Good night."

But the door would not budge. Or rather, would not close as he'd like it to. And neither did the wizard's arm. "Look, I'd really rather be left in peace-"

"Mr. Watson, we only need twenty minutes of your time."

"I don't-"

"How did Draco Malfoy escape from a mansion filled with the most loyal and violent of Thomas Riddle's followers undetected?" one of the witches asked suddenly and loudly to make sure she'd be heard. "Especially as the Dark Lord himself had taken residence within the Malfoy family home, and was not but two rooms away from young Mr. Malfoy at the time of his escape."

Through the partially closed door, and beyond the arm the wizard insisted on keeping in the way of it realizing the second purpose for which it had been installed (to close again after it had been opened) he considered the question. Then he sighed once more. The door moved in the only direction available to him. Inward. Open. Stepping aside he allowed them into his home.

Once the door had been closed behind them, he grumbled. "I'd prefer not, since I don't want you to even be here, but my dad did ensure I learn proper manners. Would you like a cup of tea?"

The three looked to one another before shaking their collective heads. "Well," he said. "I'm having one anyway. The study's that way, door on the left. Don't make yourselves comfortable, and don't sit in the black and chrome chair. Or the other one. For that matter, don't sit down. I'll not have your ministry stink on my furniture. Even if you are Unspeakables."

He pushed past them, giving a low growl as he made his way to the kitchen to fetch himself a cuppa. He could have simply used magic, but he preferred, these days, to do most things the muggle way. Magic, he had decided, had cost him far too much in life to be used as wantonly as he had once done.

Soon, he had settled into his favorite chair, his father's old chair. The chipped mug he always favored when he was in a foul mood sat on a patch of yellow gaffa tape. Indeed much of the chair boasted similar patches, and little of its original black leather remained. The other chair, across from it, had patches of silver and red.

He frowned as they fired questions at him. Waiting for them to be quiet so he could answer them with sarcastic, but honest, remarks. However, after nearly eight minutes he'd had enough. "Will you three howler monkeys be quiet for a few moments! I can't bloody concentrate with all three of you nattering on at once!"

The room fell silent, save for the crackling of a fire he hadn't started. So surely one of his "guests" had lit the embers.

"Thank you. Now, let's establish why you couldn't just ring me up. I have a phone, and miss Mousey Brown over there," he said, indicating the woman closest to the fireplace. "Is muggleborn. So clearly someone in your department knows how to operate the modern muggle phone networks. Also, an owl would have been equally sufficient."

"We had attempted to-" Miss Mousey Brown began, but was cut off by the wizard with them. Clearly he fancied himself their spokesman.

"Mr. Watson, our attempts to reach you in the past seventy two hours have failed."

"You know," he replied. He took a sip of his tea, then set it back down again. He did not unwrap his fingers from the handle. "Yesterday would have been my son's seventeenth birthday... My wife and I had finally decided to get married. We'd already had six girls, and had lived together ages before that. Then she was knocked up again. Swore she'd not give birth till I made an honest witch of her at last." His smile was hollow. His eyes distant, seeing not the room but the clear memory in his own mind of that day. His wife, the size of a planet, in her wedding dress. Screaming at the vicar that he'd better hurry it along because she couldn't make the baby wait much longer.

"Mr. Wat-"

"I tell you this so that you understand very clearly that in the last seventy-two hours, I was not exactly in my right mind. Since I am alone in this cottage, you can clearly see that on days like yesterday I feel the loss of my wife and only son all the more strongly. So sorry that my mourning has thrown a spanner in the works for you."

It was Miss Malfoy Question who broke the awkward silence next. She came closer, and had the audacity to sit across from him when he'd specifically told the trio of invaders not to sit. Not to get comfortable at all.

"Mr. Watson, please do forgive our intrusion-"

"This one," he said, glaring at the other two. "At least has enough sense to apologize for disturbing me before steamrolling right on in. From now on, send her out if you bastards feel the need to disrupt my life." He growled at them before turning his attention back to this other woman. "Apologies, Miss?..."

"Ludlowe," she said.

"Not your real name."

"No. Unspeakables," she said. "You'd guessed correctly."

"Don't play that game with me. You know who I am. You know where I come from. So you know I never guess. I'd tell you how I knew, but that would requite showing how clever I am. And I am not a performing monkey." He sipped his tea again, sighed, then leaned back some in his chair. "Continue."

She gaped at him, then recovered and quickly gathered her thoughts. "Well," she said, collecting herself. "Mr. Watson, we have been trying to contact you on a matter of utmost importance. We also know that you have become a recluse, and have made it nearly impossible to find you. Matter of fact, I must admit, we had to pressure your elder brother into giving us your location."

"Which one?"

"The detective," she said, wrinkling her nose. He grinned at her, and it was the only outward sign that he wasn't entirely grumpy. "He was... unpleasant."

"Yes. Hamish gets extremely volatile of late. It's been years since his mate passed, and he has no stabilizing influence in his life. If you'd like a clear picture of what our late father was like, he's rather close to the mark."

She gave back a small smile. Her comrades were rolling their eyes and growing impatient. "Look, I'll not circle the pitch here. We've come across a puzzle that's got us in the DOM rather stumped. We've had nearly every department have a look. We've contacted every major historian and specialist on the period of wizarding history in which the War took place. Your sister was the one who directed us to find you when we questioned her of your family history, and requested to view the Malfoy and Potter libraries."

He listened to her as she further explained their problem. And what had caused it. Apparently, there was a vault in Gringotts that had been sealed for just over fifty years. At which point an alarm in a solicitor's office just off Diagon Alley went off. They hadn't known what it was for, and sent one of their staff to the bank to see to it. Which is how the firm got hold of a strange box. Which opened another set of flobberworms entirely.

"So, what you're saying is-"

"The box belonged to a solicitor who had worked on retainer for your family. At least, for your grandparents, and their children. Obviously, he has long since passed. But the box had inside two things. One, another, smaller box that requires a blood key. Very serious, very dark magic. That's why it was brought to our attention. The second, and this is the curious part, was a rather short letter. The solicitor, Mr. Greenslade, had become quite curious of something. And apparently he knew that he would not live to uncover the answer. He felt it was very important that someone get it sorted. While working for the late Mr. and Mr. Potter-Malfoy, he came across inconsistencies. He traced them, we know not where, which led him to leave the box until such a time that the puzzle would get sorted."

He had listened, and sipped his tea quietly as he considered her tale. "I see. Now that we have your purpose for being here straightened out, how do you expect me to help?"

"Well, considering the subject of the question, and the fact that all other avenues of information have dried up, who better to ask than the family historian? Hence why your sister told us to ask you, and why we were forced to contact your unpleasant nymph brother for your location. And why we so desperately needed to find and speak with you."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he said at last, staring into his now empty cup. He set it on the small table beside his chair. "However, your honesty with me will take you far. As well as your attitude, which I may say is quite pleasant compared to Mr. Surly and Miss Mousey Brown."

"There's no need to be difficult," Mr. Surly muttered.

He gave another small, hollow smile. "My father used to say that he could not form a solid theory without data. He also said you cannot make bricks without clay. How was I supposed to know what you wanted to learn if I did not know why you had come to my home, which is in the middle of nowhere near a very muggle village, during a rather heavy downpour, in the dead of night? Now," he said, giving his full attention back to the rather pleasant woman who had taken the road of patience with him rather than the indignant. "What is it you would like to know?"

He spent the next several hours answering her questions as completely as he could. When he did not know, he simply plucked a book from one of the shelves and searched for the answers. Then, she returned to the first question. The question that had gotten them through his front door.

"Honestly," he said. "I've often wondered that myself. Have you spoken with his portrait at the Manor?"

She glanced to the other witch, who nodded. "Yes," Miss Mousey Brown said. "But he was very tight lipped on the subject. We had asked the other portraits, as well as those who were associated with your family during that time. No one knows anything-"

"That's not entirely true. Someone must know something. Memory charms could have been put into place before the paintings were commissioned. I'm sure grandmother would have known, as it was very hard for my grandparents to keep secrets from one another for very long. Wizard's oaths could also have been in effect. I'm surprised your lot hadn't thought of these potential problems, and then dove right into research on wizard portraits. I'm sure there's plenty of mysteries at work there." He shrugged. "That is neither here, nor there. Draco Malfoy, I suspect, took that particular secret to the grave with him, and ensured none could speak of it after."

"Yes," Ludlowe said with a defeated sigh. "I suppose that's it then. Thank you for your time, Mr. Watson. Again, I apologize for having disturbed your night."

He glanced towards the window, seeing the sky was only just starting to lighten. Dawn would be on them soon enough. "You know the way out," he said. The other two were all too happy to go. But the woman who had called herself Ludlowe moved slower, almost deliberately. To him, it was so terribly obvious.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked with a tired groan.

"I was wondering. And it's a shot in the dark, I know. But maybe... When you were a child, did your grandparents ever talk about the war?"

"Of course. It's what nearly tore them apart, and yet in the end brought them together again. And, coming from the family that I do..."

"Right... Right. Sorry. Stupid question."

"Quite."

"Well, what I was meaning to... Is there anyone? Anyone at all that you may have heard of, even in passing, that we might could speak to?"

He thought hard for a moment. This Unspeakable, this Ministry employee, he actually liked. She was decent enough, at least. And this puzzle, or similar ones to it, had bothered him as well. Had bothered all of his siblings, actually. But none really bothered to look further into it. "There was a man," he said at last and rose from his chair. Quickly he moved to the desk, glancing up briefly at the large black scorch mark on the ceiling before reaching for pen and paper.

Three names he scribbled down before ripping the sheet from the pad and offering it to her. "My uncle, you know of him?"

"Yes. The late Lord Malfoy's work as muggle liaison is quite well documented and known. He was, from what I am told, quite a severe man."

"He had his moments," he said. "Especially after his partner Greg passed... But that's neither here nor there. I only mention him because of his name. Look at his name."

She did. The Potter-Malfoys, and the generations after, were known for giving their children odd and eccentric names. "I don't see anything wrong with it."

"Father said he was named after an old family friend my grandparents met during the war. Yet... my father had never met him. My uncle had never met him. Nobody's met him. I've tried to dig up information but... there's nothing. There was no Scorpius Mycroft Holmes in England, or indeed on the Continent during that period of time. At least, not a wizard by that name. I've tried all three names separately as well. There's seventy five Mycrofts on record, most of which were in France. Nineteen men and women by the name of Scorpius. Most of which were dark wizards and witches. During the entirety of the war, half of those died. The rest were sent to Azkaban on various charges in the years before and after the war. None were related. As for Holmes... Do you know how common a muggle name that is? It's why my uncle Mycroft chose it for his muggle alias."

She stared at him, blinking as she let this sink in. Then, she looked down at the paper again. "I... I'll see what I can find."

"Next time, owl before you come storming to my house in the dead of night. And don't bring those two idiots with you. It's like having Anderson standing in my bathroom. Very unsettling."

"What?"

He shook his head and moved to show her out. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing you'd understand at any rate."

Once he was again alone, he looked around his old, run down little cottage. He took a deep breath, rubbed at his tired eyes, and then returned to his workroom. Once seated at his bench again, he reached underneath for the bottle that now sat there on a regular basis. A tumbler soon followed.

Before he went back to work on the chip and PIN machine, he had already drowned the glass three times of its scotch - one drink for each of the headaches he'd developed during the night.

**o0o**

The pub was noisy. The pub was full of life. It was just what one needed if he were feeling particularly anti-social and needed the enjoyment of running people away rather rudely. A bottle sat on his little table by the window. A tumbler beside that. And in front of him, with the glass and bottle behind, sat his computer pad. He didn't dictate this time as he had while working. Instead he tapped at the touch screen with the fingers of one hand while occasionally pouring himself a drink with the other.

But he wasn't only in the pub to work on another 99p store story.

He was there to meet a woman who could not be found. Unless, of course, one had the connections to do so. Notes of which he had stored, also, on his computer pad.

Every so often silver eyes would rise from his work to scan the room, though he knew she had not yet arrived. Nearly the entire afternoon passed in this fashion, until at last when the door opened and his nose caught the scent of the ministry fountain. And...

He smiled to himself, a small but genuine little expression, and then looked up. "Miss Gretta Katherine Gaines-Ludlowe," he said when she had approached the table. "Hufflepuff who many feel should have been sorted Slytherin. Prefect, then Head Girl. Eleven out of twelve NEWTs."

She frowned, glancing worriedly about before taking a seat across from him. "Mr. Watson-"

"Don't worry. The moment I caught your scent I put charms in place. No one will understand what we're talking about, if they even hear it. Now, you were a very model student. On the fast track for becoming both a transfiguration and divination's master. But during your apprenticeships, a student caught you while in a trance and I believe you foretold of his mother's murder. Seeking to prevent this, he went out and confronted a rather nasty fellow he believed had been harassing her at her place of employment. And, well, you know how these sorts of things go... I was quite surprised to learn you immediately went into the Department of Mysteries under the name Ophelia Price. Rather odd, I'd thought, until I learned who your grandmother was. Sally Donovan, defrocked witch forced to leave her given name of Price behind. Really. I hadn't known she'd settled. Or, perhaps, you simply came about because she'd gotten knocked up by a married man, and your mother was the result. Not Anderson, though. I'd know." He stopped, setting his computer pad aside and quietly turning a spoon into another glass. He filled both his own and the other before offering her a drink. "It seems, Miss Ludlowe, that you and I were meant to cross paths. Just as my sister had found a Weasley while one brother was meant to find himself a Moriarty, I seem to be saddled with a Donovan."

"Mr. Watson, not only are your assumptions rude and inappropriate, whatever information is kept in my secure ministry files is classified under ministry sanctions-"

"Don't give me that shite. I don't trust people to tell the truth when dealing with them. I like to know who I'm probably going to get buggered by. Now that the field of play is even, and we both know the sort of opponent we're playing against, let's get to business. Your missive stated you had uncovered information regarding the name I gave you."

She frowned, having wanted to dive right into questions rather than their discovery. "May I, just a few first. I wanted to see if there were any other connections to be made before I showed you-"

He waved a hand and picked up his glass. "Alright, alright. But only because you're patient with an old, bitter werewolf."

She cleared her throat, reached into her coat pocket, and removed a sheet of paper covered in names. Names of this man's family members. And one by one she went through the list, asking where the names had come from.

By the time she had reached his sister, he'd been bored stiff. Parroting information that should have been quite obvious. "Look," he said. "My sister was named for my muggle aunt. Her middle name of Wynona is from my dad's favorite actress, Winona Ryder. My brother Hudson's name comes from the late landlady of 221 Baker Street, Mrs. Martha Hudson. His middle name of William is for William the Conqueror, whom my father thought was quite interesting at the time. My brother Hamish Leopold got his name from my dad's middle name, also Hamish, and from a bet my father lost to Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, my late uncle's partner. And _my_ name comes from a misplaced sentiment for the restroom of a restaurant in which I was both conceived and born."

"And your middle name, Mr. Watson?"

"What, Tobias?" He shrugged. "Dad always said father was insistent that my name be Tobias. He just liked the sound of it, and it wasn't one that began with an H. And it didn't go along with a theme. Lastly, it was not the name of anyone my father personally knew or actually cared about, therefore it could not be considered a name given in honor of someone else. Does any of what I've said answer any of your questions whatsoever?"

Her eyes had lit up when he had spoken of his own name. It was hard to miss when she also started scratching her quill against parchment far too quickly to be considered normal. "Mr. Watson, just one more question before we continue."

"Of course, because you can't just show me what evidence you've found. No, you've got to make my life more difficult."

She gave him a small smile, recognizing by now his sarcasm. "The Black Estate," she said. "The records at both Gringotts and the Ministry show that Mr. Potter was listed as his godfather's heir. Therefore he inherited everything the Black family owned rather than the estate passing to the next living male, the young Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes. Common knowledge."

"They then show that, upon Mr. Potter's passing, the estate passed to your father, Mr. Holmes. Correct?"

"Yes. Though father left the running of the estate to his brother Mycroft and sister Lily. As well as allowing the two of them to wield the political power behind his seat in the wizengmont. He preffered to remain living a muggle life."

"Well," she said. "It seems things get a little confusing after that. Now I understand why people come to you for political and fiscal matters to do with the estate rather than your sister."

"Yes. When father stupidly got himself blown up during an experiment, his will left everything to my dad. Unknowingly, due to the creature laws in effect at the time, as well as the type of bonding ceremony they had, the estate went with that. When dad passed, he had left everything he had to me, not knowing that he, a muggle, was actually Lord Black for three years between father's death and his own. I've tried to get this straightened out, but in the end had to give power of attorney to my sister, at least in the wizarding world, so that people like you will stay the hell off my back."

"Yes... about that..." she said, tucking her papers back into her pocket. From another pocket, she found another paper. Then, after a quick glance around, she enlarged it for him to see. "This was all we have been able to find linked to the name that you gave us. This is the last will and testament of-"

"Lord Scorpius Mycroft..." He trailed off, reading the name again. And again. And again. Trying to force himself to believe what he was seeing. The evidence was clear as day before his eyes. He was holding it in his hands. And yet, his mind rebelled against the very idea... He reached for his glass to find it once again refilled. At least this ministry worker was good for something other than disjointing his day. He drained the glass and set it back down, turning his attention back to the paper. The last will of a man he'd only suspected had existed. Swallowing hard, he continued, with a softer tone. "Lord Scorpius Mycroft Angelo Tobias Watson-Holmes Black of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black," he read. He glanced up to Miss Ludlowe with a confused expression before reading further into the paper.

It described, in great detail, the wand strapped to his wrist. The cottage in which he lived. The provisions that had been in place for when he would start his education at Hogwarts. Provisions he'd been told by his grandmother that had been set up by a distant family relation.

"Are there paintings? Photographs-"

"None. This is all we were able to find. But look, it was filed with the same firm that handled the Potter-Malfoy legal affairs. And the records with the firm show that it was read not long after you were born. The date of death... And do forgive me for looking up your birth records, Mr. Watson... But the date and time of death match the date and time of your own birth. It's a farfetched idea, but I don't think it's coincidence!"

She continued to explain other ideas and leads that the will had given her research team. But he tuned her out. He was going through the papers with a fine eye, breaking each and every section and article apart and growing more and more concerned as it went on. Finally, when he had deduced everything he could possibly get from it, he gave it back to her. "Tell me," he said. "How far have you come with the second box? The one needing a blood key?"

"Whomever sealed it knew what they were doing. I can't go into detail, but we've had experts from across the globe try their luck, with little success. We got it to jump off the table once. But... locked tight. We can't even identify a magical signature on the thing. Even if we could, I doubt we'd be able to find the person who made it. The box is older than the one we'd found it in."

He gave a small nod, casting his attention into his mind to secure the information he had gathered. Something didn't add up. Something was off. He could taste it as sure as he could taste the scotch in his belly. "Give me a week."

"What?"

"I said, give me a week. I will contact you by owl, and we will meet at the place of your choosing. There are some matters I must look into myself, and hopefully I may be able to shed some light on this little problem."

"Mr. Watson-"

"I think we're past formalities, Gretta. Please, call me Angelo."

She gave him a tiny, flattered smile. "Yes. Yes of course. When can I expect-"

"Like I said, a week. No earlier, no later."

**o0o**

It hadn't been hard to find the paperwork he needed at the solicitor's. They were actually eager to help, hoping to learn more of their vault mystery. After checking about the will, which as one of the beneficiaries he had no problem viewing a copy of, he had been able to find out that this mysterious man had not used his full, given title in his dealings. As a matter of fact, the only record of the full name had been on the will and the death certificate which, actually, had been much harder to get his hands on.

The name he found the man's records under had been a simple deduction. Scorpius Mycroft had been far too uncommon. Using an actual title would stick out like a crook in a police station. Watson or Holmes had been too muggle, and would have drawn attention after his uncle, then later his father, became associated with the names. Angelo... could have been gotten away with. But... No. Something common. Something everyone would overlook. But something absolutely true otherwise he'd have been picked up for fraud the moment he put quill to anti-fraud charmed parchment.

So Angelo did what he always did in these situations. What would he himself do? That part was simple. He'd use the pureblood name connection, Black. One of the most common names in the wizarding world. And an inconspicuous name that could tie him to no one he actually knew. Tobias.

Thus, he started looking for records filed for Mr. Tobias Black and soon enough he'd found a trail. Sparse on details, but it was enough to get him started. Invoices for construction work in Sussex. Account numbers for various vaults in the Australian, French, and South African branches of Gringotts. A list of valuables sold off at auction that were, he noted, of dubious nature. And a slew of summons to the wizengmont that dated back to just after the war. Quick mental calculations put the dates on the parchments around the time of the Death Eater Trials.

Periodically, his grandfather's name popped up, but not much. Just a few letters of correspondence which he realized had been collected after the man's death. Letters from Draco telling this stranger all about his children, and later grandchildren. An anecdote about Harriet announcing to the world she was upset she hadn't been sorted Slytherin after all. Complaints about muggle London.

Trivial matters, and trivial replies.

Nothing of great importance, so he left the rest in favor of potentially more important data.

When he had learned all he could from the solicitors, he repeated the process, with little success, at Gringotts the next day. What little he had been able to discover there had been that in some families, especially the older pureblood houses, there were often more than one lord or lady. It had to do with medieval law that Angelo really didn't feel was important enough to comit to memory at that time. What he was able to get out of the miserable goblins had been that yes, Tobias Black was indeed a Lord of the house of Black, but he was not the head of the family. That had been Harry Potter, via Sirius Black. Yet, he could act on behalf of the house of Black should the head of the family be indisposed or unable to do so him or herself.

At least, that was the gist of it.

Armed with all of this new knowledge, he then turned back to the books. Picking up the threads of information and tying them together in his mind. Building a mental web before he set out to interview the portraits of various old family friends. Of war heroes and even criminals.

By the time he at least reached Malfoy Manor on day six of his requested week to gather data, he was not in the best of spirits. Especially after a single surviving portrait of Lucius Malfoy spent nine hours screaming at him about trying to eat him alive. It was a bit not good when his great-grandfather starts shrieking like a woman at the very sight of him, despite having never actually seen the portrait before in his life.

His cousins, the Dimmock triplets who now resided in Potter-Malfoy manor (all three were rather obnoxious and boisterous Gryffindors) had been reluctant to leave him alone in the manor. Not that they hadn't liked their Holmes cousins. Oh no, they adored them. But... they were concerned about leaving him alone at all, given they knew their cousin was still grieving his wife and son.

They didn't want to come across him laying dead in their grandfather's study.

After assurances that he would be fine, and would call a house elf if he needed anything, they left him to the study. And to the portrait that waited behind the heavy green velvet curtains.

Angelo paced back and forth in the room. Glancing to the curtains as he bounced between anger and confusion.

Eventually he settled on rather peeved and stopped in front of the curtains. Reaching out for the silver rope, he pulled hard and watched as the smirking face of Draco Malfoy looked back at him.

"I knew you would be around soon enough. Especially after that rather nosey young woman came poking about."

"You've had some restoration work done," Angelo noticed, leaning closer and poking at the painting. "Rather fine job, too. They scaled you back a few decades, didn't they."

"One must keep up appearances as best one can."

"You're not ruddy royalty."

Draco smirked flatly back at him. "I'm a Malfoy. That's more than enough."

"And a Potter!" shouted another portrait nearby, hidden by deep red curtains.

"Go visit the other frame over at Harriet's!"

"Fine fine. I know when I'm not wanted."

"Don't be childish Harry. I'll fetch you when I'm done with the puppy."

"I'm right here you know."

Draco rolled his eyes, and if he could sigh, he would have done so at this moment. "Is he gone?"

"I heard they're remaking the Harry Potter films and I can't wait to see them!" Angelo lied rather loudly. When no rude response came from behind the red curtains, he nodded. "He's cleared off."

Draco relaxed, wished he had a chair painted into the portrait with him, and shook his head. "Even now he rants about those damned books. Caught one of your cousins reading one the other day. Set him off for a few days and nights. I could hardly get any sleep."

"Do portraits actually need sleep?"

"No, but what else are we going to do, hanging on the wall all day with no one to talk to but ourselves and nosey young women looking for answers to things they really shouldn't bother with."

Angelo couldn't help but return the smirk that was being shot at him. "I was hoping we could get back to that. They haven't made the connection yet. Because he's covered his tracks too well for your common variety snoop to find. Then again, minds like ours are hard to come by."

"Yes, they are. I suppose you've already been by the solicitors. And the bank."

"That's why there were never pictures of this mysterious friend of your's. Or a portrait."

Draco nodded.

"How long did you know?"

"How long did I know what?"

"Don't play games with me Draco!" he growled, then quickly checked himself. A quick look around told him his cousins hadn't heard his outburst. The silencing wards on the study must have still been in place despite how long ago they had been put there.

"I had them refreshed the last time your brothers were here. You should visit us more often, you know."

"Don't change the subject either."

If Draco would heave a great sigh, he would have. Instead, he mimicked the action. "Be specific. You're just like your father, you know. When it comes to demanding information. You're never specific enough."

"How long did you know who he was? Who I am? And why the bloody hell did no one bloody tell me!"

"Firstly, I suspected the day he died. But there was a lot going on at the time. My best friend had just died while I was sitting with him. My son had just barely survived giving birth to a very sick, very small, and very early child. Do forgive me if I had a lot of things on my mind and could not devote my full mental capabilities to sorting out one of the strangest mysteries I had ever encountered."

He felt his cheeks grow hot, and averted his eyes under Draco's penetrating stare.

"Secondly, my suspicions were not fully confirmed until I attended the will reading. Harry remained at the hospital with our son so that John, your dad, could accompany me. You had recently been cleared to go home, but needed constant attention and physical contact with a parent. Therefore, John had brought you with him."

"I was... You mean... But..." He looked back to the portrait, finding there a slightly softer expression in Draco's painted grey eyes despite the placid mask on his face. "I was at my own will reading?"

"Yes. It seems so."

"But why did no one tell me any of this? Why-"

"And how do you think that would have gone down, young man? Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time, Angelo. I was not about to throw a spanner in the works. So... I had to put a memory charm on John. Just a little one. Nothing your father would detect. And he had always been quite good, so it was a rather challenging risk. And I cannot tell you what will happen now, either."

"So I have no choice in the matter. I have to somehow find a way to go back in time, again, and then what? Save the day?"

Draco rolled his eyes rather dramatically. "Look. I'm not telling you what to do. I'm not even going to convince you to do it or not do it. You still have your free will."

"But that's the thing, innit? I don't have free will here. If I don't... If I don't rescue you, you'll get the mark. You get the mark, you'll be a Death Eater. You'll never patch things up with Harry. After the war the two of you will never get together. You'll never get married. You'll never make one of the most important magical breakthroughs of the 20th century. My father will never be born, and I'll never exist to be standing here right now pointing out this paradox."

Draco was silent now. Oh, he could have easily thrown a rather witty response. He could have rationalized that Angelo didn't know what he was even supposed to do, so how did he know that he was the one who really rescued him or not. He could have just told him to sod off and have his crisis elsewhere.

Instead, he gave a small, quiet little nod. In a moment of sincerity and compassion that had been so rare of him in life, he spoke softly and evenly. His tone one that once, long ago, a wise old werewolf had used to reassure him that everything would work out in the end. That he would survive the war and see his Harry again.

"Angelo, what is left for you here?"

"What?"

"Your life. What do you have left to keep you tied to this place?"

"My house-"

"You've lived in a tent."

"My girls-"

"Are grown with families of their own and no longer need their father."

"My... My brothers. And Harriet-"

"Are older than you. They take care of themselves. They have good jobs. Two of them have children of their own. Harriet, I hear, will be a grandmother herself soon."

"My work."

"From what I've heard you sit in the dark drinking scotch all day while speaking to a dictaphone and tinkering about with your odd little muggle machines. Alone. So I ask you again. What is left for you here?"

He growled angrily, reaching for his wand but then, realizing it was futile to hex a painting, allowed himself to slump into a nearby chair. "You said you weren't going to try and convince me one way or the other."

"I'm not. What I'm doing is trying to be a good grandparent and give you a sound and logical basis on which to make your decision."

"I don't want to do this. Why can't someone else-"

"Perhaps someone else did. Perhaps these clues were left for you to find so that you may bring attention to it. So that you can send someone else to-"

"No. Because it's too complicated. Nobody can be that clever."

Draco shook his head. "I believe your father, in a failed attempt to sow the seeds of doubt in his John's mind said something similar. I also believe you know what John told him in return." Angelo nodded, then leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His face in his hands.

He knew, the moment he'd read that will, what had to be done. He knew, also, that the means to do it had been locked away in that second box. The box that needed a blood key to open it. Dangerous and very dark magic. Necromancy, to be technical. He cast his thoughts wide, trying to find something, anything that would make this decision easier to make. Anything that could be considered big enough for him to remain here, in this life of his. Such as it was.

His heart ached, then. If his Matilde had still been with him... if his boy had still been there... He'd have gone against his logic. Fought against the evidence. But he didn't have his wife anymore. He didn't have his son anymore. Draco was right. His girls, squibs all six of them, had grown and started families of their own. Integrated fully into muggle society. His siblings, though they cared for him deeply, were no longer as close as they had been. Not since their dad had finally passed. Not since they had begun taking the roles left for them in both their worlds.

He was a sad old drunk living alone in a cottage. Working in the dark day in and day out between lunar cycles. The only time he even felt alive anymore was during the full moons. When he would run free beneath the stars, hunting rabbits and digging holes.

"That box," he said at last, looking up at Draco who, strange enough, looked back down at him compassionately. "You know what's in that box, don't you?"

He nodded.

"And you know how to open it."

Again, he nodded.

"And I'm the only one that can, aren't I?"

"I'm sorry."

He was right, without actually saying the words.

Angelo's life had run its course. He had nothing left to keep him there. Slowly, carefully, he took out his wand and held it between his index fingers. "I'd often wondered," he said. "Why my wand had such a peculiar name. Why it had these designs carved into it. Why it had the core that it did. Phoenix feather... It had been staring me in the face every day since I was eleven. I was born the day I died. _I create myself_."

"What?"

He shook his head and replaced his wand. "Nothing," he said. "Just... something I heard on a television programme as a child. I suppose now I'll have the chance to watch all of the missing episodes after television is invented."

**o0o**

The last day. The seventh day. He owled Ludlowe to tell her he would meet with her at a place of her choosing. At a time of her choosing.

Within the hour he received a response.

Within two hours he stood in the reception lobby of the Ministry, having his wand checked and receiving a visitor's pass and directions to the office in which he was to wait for his escort.

By teatime he was sitting in a room before an antique box made of ash and chestnut. A prick of the finger, a few murmured words in Gaelic, and a click echoed in the small room. Five sets of eyes looked to him as he lifted the lid of the box to discover two items. Carefully wrapped in silk and cushioned with both charms and actual pillows.

Ludlowe, being the only member of the research team that could get him to cooperate, moved closer to get a better look inside. "Is that... Is that what I think it is?"

He swallowed hard, looking from the slender phial filled with fluorescent liquid of a pensieve memory to the cracked and empty hourglass shaped pendant nestled in beside it. "What," he began, looking up at last from the contents of the box to the expectant faces staring back at him. "Do you know about time turners?"


	2. 1. Escape

He could feel the poison slowly choking him. The death and decay that hung over the once beautiful paradise of his childhood. The gardens withered. The trees grew crooked. The grass... The grass was burned away. All life, natural life, dared not enter these grounds. The darkness, unnatural and unfathomable, had come to Wiltshire at the start of the summer. And now... now it threatened to swallow him whole.

Draco stood restlessly by the window of his bedroom. All too aware of the eyes that were forever watching his every move. Every thought that crossed his mind, despite his violent occlumency sessions with his aunt Bellatrix, was laid bare for the Dark Lord to see at any time he wished.

There was no escape from the punishment ahead of him. No escape from his father's failures. Unconsciously, he rubbed his left forearm, bare still but not for much longer. Soon his punishment would be decided, and with it would bring the Mark. And the end of his pitiful excuse for freedom.

A house elf popped into existence behind him, its bandaged hands trying to steady the shaking silver tray it had brought with it. Trying to keep from dropping the fine china on which a paltry meal was set. From spilling the tepid tea that accompanied it. Since the Dark Lord had come, gone were the extravagant and filling dinners. Gone were the delicious and rich sweets. Replaced with food unfit for even a house elf.

It was no wonder, between the stress and the lack of any real food, his lean form had thinned and his pale skin now took a sickly gray pallor.

"M...M... Master Draco is wanting to be eating."

"I'm not hungry, Mipsy."

"M...M... Mistress says Master Draco needs to be wanting to be eating." The rattling of dishes on the tray stopped, presumably as the elf had finally managed to set the tray down. A tug at the hem of his robes caused him to look down. The elf, wide eyed and frightened, kept tugging. The creature looked from him, to the waiting tray, then back again before popping away.

He let the tray sit a few moments before his empty stomach growled in protest. He hadn't eaten since...

The fact he could not remember was not a good sign. He could, at least, attempt to keep down the tea. After dropping three cubes in an attempt to at least destroy the taste that would be certain to offend, he picked up the teacup. Only then noticing the small square of parchment beneath.

Quickly he looked around his room, fearing that this would be the moment they would come for him. Fearing that he would be unable to keep the Dark Lord from seeing this scrap of heaven from his thoughts. Moments such as these were all that kept him sane now. The flowing hand of his mother, a reminder that he was not the only prisoner in his own home. But most importantly, that his mother still lived at all.

He grabbed up the parchment and read it over quickly. Then again.

A date. A time. Nothing more.

His heart dropped and his breathing sped up. Time slowed and his mind reeled.

He dropped the teacup, the beautiful china shattering as it hit the floor. The tepid tea spilling into the cracks of the fine hardwood. Soaking into the edge of the rug beneath the small table on which the tray sat. Staggering back, he nearly tripped over his own ottoman before finally flinging himself into a chair. His fate was sealed. His time had finally come.

Hours passed. Hours turned to days. Days turned to weeks. Each day and night filled with violent training from Bellatrix and the Lestranges. From McNair and from a long line of filth that had his father... But his father wasn't there. His father was in Azkaban still, waiting to be released.

A month passed. Exhaustion had taken its toll. His will, once strong and bold was now weak and thin. But still... just enough. Just enough to keep him alive.

He stood again in his rooms. The date had come. The hour was approaching. Daylight, what passed as such in the darkness that had consumed Wiltshire, would soon be lost for another sleepless night.

He stood ready. Composed as best he could be. Forcing himself to remain calm as he ticked down the minutes in his head until they would come for him. Come to burn the mark of a slave into his flesh.

He gripped his wand in one hand while clenching his empty fist in nervousness and apprehension. The door opened, and beyond it in the corridor was his mother. Battered, but not broken.

"Hurry," she whispered. "Hurry Draco, there isn't time." Behind her, with his back to the door, was a man. A man he had only glimpsed among the pack Fenrir had brought at the beginning of the summer to serve as the personal dogs of the Dark Lord.

"Mother?"

He sniffed the air in one direction, then the other. "No time. We have to go NOW," he growled. "They won't be distracted for very long. The moon rises soon."

"Who-"

The man gave an eerily familiar smirk, but there was no cold callousness behind it. Not like he had seen on his own father's face many a time before. "Moldy Voldy's attack dogs. Fighting over a gazelle. At least, they think it's a gazelle. Quite funny actually, see I spiked the fire whisky with a hallucina-"

"Draco," Narcissa pleaded as interruption, her hand outstretched for her son. He questioned nothing more, silently thanking Merlin for whatever break this may be. Whatever piece of luck the goddess Fortuna saw fit to cast down to him.

"Right," the stranger said, looking back and forth up the hallway. His hand gripping the handle of his wand tightly as he sniffed the air. Narcissa started down the hall, but he put his arm out and shook his head. His voice lacking the brief and amiable amusement it had boasted before he had been interrupted.

"Snakes that way," he said. "Big big snakes."

"But-"

"Cissa, trust me."

Draco watched as his silver eyes softened, yet the rest of his face remained a mask of determination. Narcissa looked to her son briefly, squeezing his hand and giving a nod. Quietly, but quickly the trio bustled into a side room. Crossing it and out the other side. The stranger sniffing the air and leading them through hidden passages and into secret compartments.

Places only the family knew. Some secrets not even he had been able to find in his childhood. Sometimes, however, they made a wrong turning and had to flee back.

It was not until they had at last reached the next floor down, their progress slow and arduous as they did their best to keep silent, that they were forced to stop for longer than a few moments. "The library should be up ahead," Narcissa whispered in the darkness of the hidden cupboard. "The passage narrows as it slips between Lucius's office and the relic's chamber."

"Is there another way out of the library than this and the doors?" he asked, a frown of concentration on his face. She shook her head, then looked to Draco. Clearly, she knew she did not know where all the secrets lay.

Biting his lip, he nodded. "Yes. The library is two levels. We'll come out on a narrow landing behind the cases along the east wall."

"Can we reach the other passage unseen?"

He frowned, shaking his head. "No. We'll be in plain sight. But it's the fastest way to the first floor."

"Where does it come out?"

"The ballroom. From there... We'll have to hide in the compartments. Wait until dark when it will be easier to slip out unnoticed through the conservatory entrance."

Narcissa looked to their nameless helper. His eyes were closed, his nose sniffing the air and filling his lungs with the dusty, dank smells of the passage. "No... There won't be enough time to wait for dark. It's a full moon. The pack'll be on us in no time. And the wards won't let us apparate. We'd never make it clear of them before we're ripped to shreds."

Narcissa gasped, pulling her son to her and choking back a sob. "We'll be spotted."

"They haven't noticed he's gone yet. We might still have a chance is we put a Notice-Me-Not on him. Maybe a glamour-"

"But my scent. You said yourself the werewolves will be on us."

"Let me take care of that, little lord. Come on. Time's wasting and daylight is burning."

Together, with the piece of luck in the lead, they worked their way through the winding passage, having to go single file when it did indeed narrow and slow their progress. At last, they made it out, and Draco could see the outline of the door from the light beyond. A few quick spells disengaged the locks in place and slowly, carefully they slipped out onto the landing. Draco edged to the corner of the book case behind which they concealed themselves. He stopped when he felt a strong hand with long fingers clasp upon his shoulder. The other hand held a finger to the man's mouth and he shook his head. Then, he reached into his pocket, revealing a small knife. Narcissa motioned for Draco to step away, and the man took his place at the corner.

As the man checked, using the reflective surface of the blade, for signs of life in the library Draco leaned in close to his mother to whisper softly into her ear.

"Why not just cast-"

"Because the wards are attuned to Him now. He will know if too much magic is done without his knowledge."

"What about the locking spells?"

He would have said more, had the man not stepped closer to them. His voice low, just barely more than a growl. "Two dogs. Two men. One woman. There's an elf, but he don't look too pleased."

Draco hissed. "He'll give us away."

"The dogs probably know we're here already. Just waiting for us to show." He did not put his knife away. Only gripped the handle tighter. "Not too smart, but patient before the moon makes them frenzy."

"What do we do?"

"I'll have to take them out. The rest... we can't have a firefight here. Distraction is what we need. And some good concealment charms."

"He will notice the magic. He will come looking. When they see Draco gone-"

The man placed a tender hand on Narcissa's arm and let it slide down to her hand. Draco didn't care for the affection his mother received. When those fingers lingered, linked with her own before finally falling away. "It's a risk we need to take, Cissa. You knew this."

"I don't have to like it."

Anger bloomed in Draco's chest. He did not know from where it came. Or for who it had been conjured. But the first chance he had, he would be sure to make this interloper understand his mother was still a married woman, despite her husband's absence. Draco wasn't fond of his father, but that didn't mean he could stand by and watch this.

But first, he had to escape. And survive the attempt.

"Draco," the man said suddenly. For the first time addressing him without a prompting from the boy's mother. "Your training. Remember the one who had you eviscerating house elves for his amusement, even after you sicked up on his shoes?"

A slow nod.

"He's out there. Want some payback?" He didn't wait for a response. "You know where the next passage is. I'll go out, get rid of the dogs. Then you come out and Narcissa and I will cover you."

The man tucked his wand up his filthy sleeve, clutched the knife tightly once more, and gave them one last look before leaping out from behind the case. Jumping down on top of a table with a ferocious howl.

Draco and Narcissa hid, their nerve starting to fail them as the sounds of fighting echoed up from below. The cracks of electric death. The sizzle and acrid smoke of fire as books and papers caught fire. Sending the death eaters into an angry frenzy.

Laughter. Laughter from below. A hollow sound that caused Narcissa's hand in her son's to clench tighter, squeezing his fingers painfully. "We have to hurry. They'll be on us soon."

"We can hand him over as a traitor," Draco replied, knowing even as he spoke it was the coward's way out. They had already come this far... But he could claim they were following him. Trying to uncover a spy from Dumbledore.

"No Draco. This is our only chance. I won't see you in Azkaban. I won't see you dead. I've... I've lost too much already. I won't lose you, too."

With that, she gave him a push off the landing, casting a cushioning charm so he would not hurt himself in the fall. He watched in horror at the scene unfolding before him. The flames reaching up and licking the ceiling. The smoke filling the library as two men circled around one another. One covered in blood, the other in soot. Their helper, their guide was crouched low as he moved. Tossing his knife from one hand to the other as he sized up his opponent.

He moved again when he felt his mother's reassuring hands on his arm. "Move," she hissed. "Hurry." He looked around before spotting the bookshelf he needed. He led his mother to it, searching through the titles before at last pulling one from the shelf. Behind it, a lever.

Even as he pulled it down, he felt his mother's back pressed against his, ready to deflect the spells that may come her way. Ready to protect her son.

That was what this was all about, Draco knew. A mother protecting her child. Saving him from the worst fate imaginable.

"Go," Narcissa hissed as the man launched himself at the death eater, growling visciously. She knew, before this, what the man was. She knew, also, that he swore an oath to her to keep her son safe. Swore to do anything, no matter how desperate, how terrible, to this end.

Draco ran into the secret passage that opened up between the book case with the lever and the one beside it. The narrow strip of wall that concealed the passage behind a tapestry.

Narcissa followed closely behind, her wand out and still at the ready. Soon, they were joined by the man. His long blond hair dripping with the blood of his kill. "That should keep the sniffer dogs busy for a while," he said, closing the panel behind them. "What?" he asked as if surprised when they stared at him in horror and disgust.

"Well, not like they hadn't had it coming. Especially that big one. No means no mate and I don't suffer idiots easy."

"You... You gutted..."

"The fire will burn off our scent. It'll be like a dead end. Anything that's left will be masked by the scent of a fresh kill. Messy, gruesome, yes. But this is war, and with werewolves son, its kill or be eaten." With a wave of his hand, rather than his wand, he muttered cleaning charms to clear away the blood. He managed to get most of it, but his hair was still tinged a bit red. He smiled, and Draco shuddered. No, he was imagining the elongated canines, he was sure of it.

"Let's go. Have to reach the edge of the wards before the sun sets and the moon rises. We'll only have a few moments of free time."

Tucking the knife back into his pocket, he pushed past Draco and they continued on in silence, the teen in the middle with his mother in the back.

Soon, or hours, time held little meaning for him now. They came to the end. To the ballroom. Now it was only a matter of timing. And luck. "Let's hope Fortuna's still smiling down on us mate. Otherwise this is going to get real ugly, real fast."

Narcissa and he shared a look as Draco unlocked the passage. A soft click echoed down the hidden corridor, and they prayed to Merlin that none on the other side had heard it. "We head straight for the conservatory. No matter what you hear, you do not slow down. Anyone gets in your way, immobilize them quickly and keep running. Do not look back."

The Malfoys nodded, and cautiously the man pushed open the paneling. It seemed clear enough, and he stepped out. Only to duck quickly as a green flash passed overhead.

"Go go go!" he shouted, forming a barrier behind which the Malfoys could take brief cover before making their break. He lowered it once they were clear, and provided cover spells as best he could. Narcissa shrieked in pain as she took a hex to her shoulder. Draco turned back to help her, deflecting as many curses as he could while this man caught up to them.

"Toby," she gasped the moment he'd managed to put up a second barrier, but it was taking a beating as the death eaters closed in. "Toby you take him and you run."

"Cissa-"

"I'm a liability," she said. "You came for Draco. Not for me. I'll slow you down, and they'll find us."

"Mother, I won't leave you. Not now. Not after this. They'll kill you."

"Not while your father lives they won't."

"I can't-"

"You CAN Draco. The mark, they'll use it to find me, and then they'll find you."

With his free hand, this man, Toby, took Draco by the arm. "Draco, come on. She's giving us a chance-"

"No!"

Toby caught Narcissa's eyes. She gave a nod. He looked away, almost ashamed. "Do it," she said. "Please."

Soon, Draco was running, Toby close on his heels. His body ran, but his mind shouted in rebellion and rage as the screams of his mother left the range of his hearing. They bolted out the doors of the conservatory, Toby throwing hexes over his shoulder. Clearing the way from behind as Draco pushed onward under another's command. Through the gardens. Beyond the gates and into the forest. The sky overhead blocked by summer leaves and branches. But the sun had set, and the moon had started to rise and soon the sound of howls filled the air behind them.

Toby clenched his jaw and kept running. Already undoing his shirt and casting it off, uncaring now if the beasts caught their scent. It didn't matter now. They were nearly to the edge. Nearly to freedom. "Draco, stop!" he shouted, hearing the wolf in his voice as he unfastened the holster strapped to his wrist. The teen stopped dead in his tracks, and the man nearly slammed into him. His back muscles constricted. He could feel his joints already starting to crack. But there was no time, now, to feel the pain as it came.

Only to ensure his valuables, his wand and his knife, were in safe and friendly hands. "Take these," he said with a strained voice, and handed the wand in its holster, then the knife from his pocket to him. "I know you can hear me still. Listen." He winced as his back popped again. "You hold them for me. You hold 'em, and you keep running. I'll be right behind. Now I-" He stopped, giving a shout of pain. "I'll release the curse, but you must keep going. That knife, it's a portkey. Do not lose it! Now go!" His voice was little more than a growl at the end. Obediently, though he'd much rather have done the opposite, Draco turned and started to run, unable to rebel. Yet.

Behind him, even as the curse was lifted, Draco heard the pained screams morph into howls that joined the others.

He knew he'd seen that man before among the pack of werewolves Greyback had brought to the manor, adding to the Dark Lord's security and ranks.

He didn't know, until forced to look at him while under the Imperius, while receiving the orders to take the wand and knife (the portkey) and keep running, that the man did not bear the Mark upon his left arm. All the wolves were made to take it if they hadn't done so already. Then how- He did not give this much thought as he heard the low growls behind him.

The howls and the snapping jaws.

One glance over his shoulder told him that he would not make it out of the forest and off the Malfoy property alive. The werewolves, replete in their sickly patches of fur and exposed ribcages ran, loping after him. Jumping up high to bury their claws into the trunks of trees before leaping off and throwing themselves in his direction.

That one glance was all it took to lose his footing on the forest floor.

That one glance was all it took to allow these bloodthirsty beasts to bear down upon him.

A mighty howl tore through the forest as Draco scrambled to get back to his feet, but only succeeded in pushing himself backwards, in the direction he had been running, along the ground. He did not know which one it was that now loomed over him, its foul breath the last thing he would smell before his innards would be spilled across the forest floor.

He closed his eyes, instinctive human fear taking hold as he waited for the jaws and the claws to come.

A loud thud, then another. Fur brushed his cheek briefly, causing him to open his eyes to see the large red wolf, its teeth sinking deep into the neck of the werewolf that had just been about to end his life.

Oh Fortuna, what had he done that she had blessed him with such good fortune this night?

The red wolf shook its head this way and that before at last releasing the sickly animal in its jaws, letting its lifeless form skid to a halt at the base of a tree as another leaped to attack this new aggressor.

The wolf turned its head, silver eyes shining as it barked angrily at him before engaging the others.

Draco managed to get to his feet and turned, running again.

He could have sworn there was a word in that bark, buried beneath the pure animalistic sound.

That word had been _run_.

**o0o**

Dawn had come when Draco at last had reached the nearby muggle town. He had not dared stop, even after leaving the wards. He dared not apparate, fearing that without this strange new protector the goddess Fortuna had seen fit to give him, he would not last very long on his own.

He had spent most of the day hiding in the cemetery behind the parish church. He thought he had been spotted, once, but realized it had only been a muggle priest come out to console a recently bereaved parent.

Starting to despair, Draco cast his thoughts wide, trying to think of a place he could seek shelter. A place of safety. A place-

"With pain killers and a good cuppa tea."

Draco jumped to his feet, spinning around to see a very battered, very bruised, and very... naked man.

"You... You walked through the town like that?!"

"Keep your voice down, mate," he said. "I'll be having those back then." He nodded towards the wand and the knife in Draco's hand. The items which he had not realized he'd been holding so tightly. Looking away, he held them out. The moment they left his hands, he let his arms fall back to his sides, unwilling to look back at the man again.

A few awkward moments passed, and Toby coughed, drawing the teen's attention back to him. He was now dressed, no doubt his odd clothes transfigured from whatever rubbish he had found laying around.

"No, I stripped a corpse and ran off with the knickers," he said sarcastically, as if reading his mind.

"No, I didn't read your mind," he said, strapping the wand holster to his wrist and tucking the knife into his belt. "Though I could. I'm no expert legillimens, but I got pretty good before I retired." He shrugged and adjusted his strangely patterned top. "I observed, you see. You had this expression on your face. I used to see it a lot, especially when I was a boy. So, naturally I deduced your thoughts. Quite correctly, I should think. Now let's go."

"Where?"

"Where? To the Order, of course. You weren't thinking we'd go back to see your friends Grey-Pup and He-With-No-Nose were you?"

"Why do you mock them so freely?! Don't you know who they are, what they can do! Because of you, my mother's going to die! My father, too, if the Dark Lord takes a mind to do so! You've ruined everything!"

"Because being a slave to a madman is definitely the correct life choice here."

"We could have stayed together! My family would be safe-"

"Until he decides your usefulness has ended. Until he makes your mother watch as you're tortured for failure. Is that what you want, little lord?" He stood with arms crossed over his chest, a hard, challenging stare from only his eyes as his face was perfectly schooled into a mask of utter calm. "Because that's not going to happen."

"We would be alive!"

"But dead inside," Toby said, glancing around to make sure no one took notice of them. "I swore an oath to your mother. I'm not going to let them get their claws in you. That mark isn't going to scar your arm and that poison isn't going to taint your soul. I won't let that happen."

"Why? Why me!"

"Because," Toby said, his stance softening. "Because your mother loves you, and knows... has known for a long time now that there's only one way this war is going to end. And when the dust is settled, and the fighting's done, what do you think is going to happen to all those happy little death eaters that survive, eh? Those that don't get put to death will spend the rest of their lives in Azkaban. Any that manage to walk... there is no future for them, Draco. Don't you see that?"

"Then take me out of the country. Take me far away from this war."

"I can't. The eye of the storm is here in England. But the Dark Lord's reach is vast. Already there are foot soldiers stationed across the Atlantic. Down in Africa. In the deepest heart of the Far East. From across the globe every dark wizard, every black creature that exists is bending to his will. You are no safer Egypt than you are here."

"Anywhere but the Order. Anywhere but with Dumbledore. He isn't what he seems. I know he isn't. Sev- Professor Snape has told me everything about him. How he uses others to fight his war. Lets them die for a cause they don't fully understand. I won't escape one madman and run into the arms of another!"

Toby nodded, dropping his arms and shoving them into the pockets of his odd denim trousers. "But the Order is our only chance to get to Harry Potter."

"Potter?!"

"Well," Toby said, picking his words very carefully and ensuring that his tone made him sound perfectly reasonable in his logic. "Someone has tried to kill Potter every year since entering Hogwarts. And once when he was just a year old. His friends, too, have come close to death. But the lot of them survive. Every single time. You don't have to like the kid, but you've got to admit. The safest place to be is near him."

"Also the most dangerous," Draco muttered under his breath.

Toby could not help but laugh. "True. But if I didn't know any better, I'd swear he was the son of Fortuna herself."


	3. 2. Rest

They had apparated from the graveyard shortly after. Where they had arrived, Draco did not know nor recognize. Only that the place felt, no, was isolated. And there was nothing there apart from, according to Toby, a dense forest and a muggle village nearby.

"It was the first place I could think of," he replied honestly when questioned. "And it's far far away from where our scent could be picked up. Though... they'd think twice before coming after me again."

The hair on the back of Draco's neck stood on end as the man sat in the grass, seemingly oblivious to their situation, and started to check himself over for injuries.

"We're easy targets out here. When they trace the magical signature from the apparition point-"

"We did side-along. I took you with me, not the other way around, genius. Notice I didn't exactly use a lot of magic back there so they won't know my signature. My wand, also, is not on ministry record so it's not like they could match me up to any criminal databa- er... They can't look me up," he replied, now with his shirt off and his wand tip skimming over the right side of his ribcage. He sucked air sharply in through his teeth. "That'll need a proper resetting," he muttered as he moved on to another piece of exposed and bruised flesh.

Draco watched him, muttering to himself between stifled groans. Patching himself up piece by piece. The teen was, by all accounts, quite skilled in the healing arts. Nearly as proficient in them as his potions work. He had to be, going through the training the Lestrange brothers and his aunt had put him through. Yet he did not offer his assistance. He did not feel he should, given he still didn't trust this man completely. With little else to occupy his mind, he replayed the night again in his mind. The appearance of this man with his mother. The kindness, the affectionate looks they had shared briefly in the darkness and safety of the secret corridors. The Imperius curse that had been placed on him. The wolf that had saved him...

"How are we going to find them?"

"Who?" Toby asked as he'd just started on his legs which were, thankfully, less damaged. He needn't take his trousers off at least.

"The Order. The Dark Lord has been searching for their headquarters since his return. How are we meant to find them in less than a day?"

"Well, that part's easy. They're in the old Black house in London. I'm sure your mum's told you about it."

"Not particularly. She... doesn't speak much of her childhood."

Toby's bare shoulders shrugged, causing him to wince just a little. "Well, I don't know if the same rules apply since the place has a _fidelus_ -"

Draco's eyes lit up as if it were Christmas. "Of course! Why didn't they consider that!"

"So I'm not going to try and say for sure. But I know where it is. The how... That's a bit trickier. Since it's got the _fidelus_ charm, no doubt the Master of Headgames has placed some real funky protection on the place. So-"

He stopped when he noticed Draco staring at him, forehead creased in concentration as pale brows had come together in thought. It was an eerie expression to see on a face so young. But gave him a warm sense of rightness. Of home. "What?"

"Your speech. It is hard to follow at times. Some of your words are... odd."

"Yes, well," Toby said realizing that yes, some of his words were a bit... modern. Like the word 'funky'. And the disregard with which he mentioned Lord Voldemort, even openly mocking his name, he could see would put anyone in this era ill at ease. "I'm foreign and some of our words don't translate well with a translator spell?"

"You're not using a translation spell," Draco easily pointed out.

"Because I'm translating in my head from... Er... Venetian?"

"I know Venetian."

"No you don't. You don't know Italian either."

"Prove it then."

"That I speak it or that you don't understand it?"

They glared at one another for long moments. Neither giving an inch. "I'm not going to have this argument with a moody, nervous sixteen year old," Toby said at last, getting to his feet and pulling his shirt back on. "I need food. And we need to make you a bit less conspicuous. Perfectly tailored clothes will only get you noticed faster, and we're working on a time table here. Transfigure your clothes into something more... muggle."

"Because clearly your clothes are perfectly normal. What is that you are even wearing on your top?"

Toby glanced down at his transfigured shirt and gave a shrug. "What? I happen to like the classic songs of bygone eras. And Taylor Swift is my spirit animal. Sort of. Okay, she was hot in her day."

Draco blinked at him in confusion before shaking his head. "Again, your language is-"

"Foreign. I'm foreign," he said, but changed his shirt into something more appropriate. A simple blue shirt with buttons down the front. It also hid his wand quite well. But he did not transfigure his denims and dragonhide boots, thank you. But they could work, sort of, if he worked it right. "If anyone asks," he said. "I'm from America."

"I thought you said you were from Venice."

"No. I'm an American who speaks Venetian. I moved to Venice. Then came here, okay." The banter continued, even after Draco altered his clothing, with much prompting that purple and green in any shade were a bad idea at the moment, into something more muggle appropriate.

They fell into a silence. Only mildly uncomfortable, as they walked side by side into the forest. Draco watched him from the corner of his eyes, noting that the man seemed to know exactly where he was going. "I suppose if fortune has seen fit to leave me in your irresponsible care, we must establish exactly who you are."

"I told you, I'm an American-"

"Yes. We went over that blatant lie. Now tell me something true," Draco said, hands in the pockets of his dark grey slacks. He wanted to get straight to the bit about his mother, but knew there were more pressing matters at hand. Such as exactly why he had done all of this. Why he had come in the first place. And why wait until near the end of the summer to enact whatever crazed plan he had concocted. And why, of all the dark creatures at the Dark Lord's call, did this one disobey and not bear the Mark?

"Because I'm a master at disguise. Well, not a master really. More of a master's apprentice. I'll never be as great as my father was. Brilliant chap, he was. See, the thing is, wizards don't really think to look for muggle stuff. Just a bit of ink in the right places. A few impervious charms to keep it from running when it's wet. And some damn good acting," Toby said, gesticulating excitedly with his hands to the questions Draco hadn't even voiced. "Again, observed. Your face is actually quite expressive. And you'd been peering at my left arm every chance you got in case you hadn't noticed."

"Would it kill you to wait for me to ask before you start running your mouth?"

Toby laughed, a small, but genuine sound. Something Draco thought he would never hear again from anyone. "Fine fine, little lord. I'll do that. So, seeing as we've a bit of a walk, ask away."

"Why don't we apparate?"

"Muggle village," he replied. "Plus, in the off chance that we do get traced here, best not leave a magical trail for muggle hating psychopaths to follow. Might get a bit messy." He gave a shrug and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. The silence that followed was once again awkward. Broken briefly by Draco giving voice to questions Toby was itching to answer.

By the time they had reached the village, the sun was high in the sky. Telling of just after midday. "Finally!" Toby exclaimed when he caught sight of the stonework cottages that dotted the lane. "A proper pub! Come on, I could use a strong drink."

"I thought you'd wanted a cuppa."

"Still do. But first, scotch. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a proper scotch? March! God you'd think those animals would be kind enough to hold up a brewery with their wicked dark magic. But no... let's go terrorize a sheep and peacocks. Bloody idiots, the lot of them."

Toby ran up ahead of him, but would stop, turn around like an excited dog, and wait for him to catch up before running off again. "Oh look! Not just a pub! A tavern! Good. Will save the trouble of finding lodgings for the night as well."

"We... we're STAYING here?! I thought we were going to find Potter!" After noticing the odd looks the pair of them were starting to receive, he hurried his pace to regain his position at Toby's side. He lowered his voice. "We are on the run, thanks to you."

"And in case you hadn't noticed, I sort of have this condition that takes a heavy physical toll on my body, and causes me to be rather irritable when not fed and full of liquor."

"I'm not staying in a room with a werewolf all night!" he hissed. "I saw what you did to that thing. You'll rip me apart soon as look at me."

Toby sighed. "Safest bet is for me to stick with you," he said, putting his hand on the old oak door of the tavern. "All night. Trust me, I'm as docile as a puppy, when I take a fancy. Besides, it's just for one night."

"There's one more moon after tonight, you idiot. What then?"

"We'll be with the Order by then, and I'll have access to wolfsbane, so it hardly matters." He pushed open the door, not seeing the sudden look of fear that came upon Draco's face before the teen followed him inside.

Draco looked around at the midday drinkers. The smell of the muggle brews were an affront to his senses. He had lost sight of Toby in the dim light of the pub, but found him again when he'd managed to weave his way to the bar. "One room, two beds please mate," he said, slapping a few scraps of paper on the counter. Draco could only assume this was some form of muggle currency. "My brother and I've been traveling for days. Could use a solid rest."

The barkeep looked at him, then to Draco with a suspicious look. But one glance at the papers and he was more than obliging. Reaching beneath the counter, he pulled out a large book. Followed by a muggle quill. "Names please, sirs," he said. "For the records, of course."

"Of course," Toby said. Before Draco could open his mouth the wolf added, "Holmes."

"Homes?"

"No. Holmes. H-o-l-m-e-s." Toby peered at the book. "Yes, that's right. Mycroft, that's me. And Scorpius, that's him." Draco watched as he easily laughed, an obviously forced and false sound. "Yeah, mum always was a bit of a fanciful creature. Went through one of those phases where she was fascinated by all sorts of phantasmagoria when she was laid up with Scorp here." The barkeep, taking his word as truth, looked back to Draco and shook his head with an amused laugh. As if to say 'poor sod' before closing his book and fetching a key. A girl from the back, presumably his daughter if the slope of the nose and the shape of the head was anything to go by, showed them upstairs to their room. A small space, but comfortable enough Draco supposed.

They thanked her, and Toby dropped a coin into her open hand before closing and locking the door behind her.

"Where do you keep getting your money from? This morning you were-"

"Draco, we're wizards. Do they teach you nothing in school?... Well... Okay, so forgery isn't exactly a school appropriate subject in transfiguration. But it's a handy skill to have regardless. Just don't try it with galleons and sickles. You'll get caught in no time."

Toby settled onto one of the beds. Crawling up and stretching out with his hands folded behind his head.

"Thought you wanted a drink."

"I'll be having one, don't you worry your pretty blond head. But you need to rest. Been up all night. So have I. We'll be safe for a while yet."

**o0o**

Draco didn't realize how exhausted he had truly been until he felt the cold nose pushing against his arm. The brush of fur as the large beast settled itself on the floor between the two narrow beds. He'd lifted his head to see the room illuminated by moonlight.

Yet it had been half through the day when he'd stretched across the bed. He moved his hand away from where it hung, just inches above the large wolf curled up beside his bed. His stomach growled at him, demanding nourishment even as he rolled over onto his back. Blearily he looked up at the ceiling. Plain and white and so very ordinary.

Then, the events of the last day and night crashed into him, causing him to sit up on the bed quickly. Eyes wide and searching before finally realizing that if the beast which guarded him so stubbornly had wanted him dead, it would have done so long before now.

He glanced over at it, and quietly asked, "Toby?"

It lifted its head briefly to turn and blink at him. The moonlight streaming in through the single window catching the silver eyes before it laid its head back down.

His stomach growled at him again. Reaching back beneath his pillow, he removed his wand and whispered, "Lumos," before giving the room another look.

There on the small table near the door stood an empty bottle and a well used glass. And a half eaten meal.

Draco climbed out of bed, careful not to step on the wolf, to see more of what sat on the wooden tray. Bread and cheese. A few bits of meat, though what they were he could not quite tell. Glancing back, he saw the wolf watching him. He picked up a piece of cheese and nibbled at it before shoving it into his mouth.

Food, real food. Edible food. Food with a flavour. Food that wouldn't make him ill. He stuffed his face as if he hadn't even eaten the gruel he'd been given for months. Hardly taking notice of the tea sitting off to the side. Stone cold, of course, but that could be remedied with a small utterance.

When he'd finished, he slumped into the chair at the table, knowing he wouldn't feel too well soon after gorging himself. But after this last summer... he could not trust when he would see such simple pleasures again.

"Tomorrow," he said sleepily, his hunger and thirst now sated. "We'll find Potter and the Order." He leaned back in the chair, a hand over his stomach and let the light of his wand go out. The room once more bathed in moonlight, and his eyes adjusted.

Draco still worried for his mother. He still did not trust this Toby, whose presence had a sense of intimate familiarity despite having never met before. But he also knew that to worry, to let these thoughts and misgivings in now would only make his situation worse. There would be time to fall apart, to panic and to feel the fear he continuously stomped back down later. When he was safe, or something thereabouts.

For now, he got up and crawled back onto his bed for the night. Secure in the knowledge that should anything come for him now, there stood a rather stubborn, rather large dog in its way.

He drifted back into a fitful slumber.

And if in the middle of a nightmare, a dream of his mother at the mercy of a torturous master, he felt a cold nose and a brush of fur against his arm, he did not wake to complain.

**o0o**

Dawn saw the appearance once more of the naked man. Less bruised and battered than before, but still looking the worse for wear as he pulled on his denim trousers.

He was half dressed when he shook Draco awake with a low growl to his voice. "Arse up, your lordship. We've gotta do a runner."

"Wha?" Draco asked blearily as he rolled onto his side. Thankfully his back was to the window, and he would not be blinded too terribly by the early morning sun.

"I said arse up, we gotta make a break. Someone's tracked us."

"But you said-"

"Sod what I said. We gotta go. Grab your wand, grab your shite, and _let's go_."

He was frantically pulling on his shirt, fumbled with the buttons and then left the rest undone. Quickly he'd sat to pull on his boots, even as the shouting began outside. Below in the street. He moved quickly, boots not even buckled as he pressed his back against the wall beside the window. Taking a quick look out and ducking back again. "Shoulda known... shoulda bloody well known..."

"What?" Draco demanded as he finished dressing himself. It hadn't taken much, since he'd only removed his shoes and shirt before laying down the previous afternoon.

"The trace, you dolt. You're under seventeen. Shoulda figured that into the plans. Salazar I've been a fool."

"Right. Well, too late to do anything about it now. We need to go. We need to use the portkey."

"Can't."

"Why not?!"

"Because it's a one use only. It's going to get us into the Order's headquarters... hopefully. Look, I'm sort of having to make this up as we go."

"Obviously," Draco sneered, grabbing his wand. "Well, we'll have to either apparate before they get up here or fight our way out. Which will it be?"

"We apparate, we'll be followed. We'll have to fight, then apparate. I've got a decent place, I think, that we could go. Just to hide for a bit. We have to time our attempt to get into Number 12 Grimmauld-" He cut himself off suddenly. Frowning, then grinning. Then absolutely beaming despite the fact that now the wizards that had arrived in the village were searching house by house for them. "What do you know!" he exclaimed excitedly like a puppy with a giant bone. "I can say it! I can actually say it! Oh this is... Oh Fortuna you're beautiful!" The last he exclaimed while looking up at the ceiling, addressing the abstract idea of the goddess herself. "Better than a triple homicide for Christmas followed by a serial bomber. Oh yes!"

"What are you on about?! I'm tired of your repeated attempts to confuse me. I demand to know what-"

"I have no idea, but I've got a theory. Four theories. No... no, three theories. But I can't test them out yet. Because we have to time this perfectly. And I'm not sure about the current how, but I'm pretty damn sure about the why."

He pulled out his wand, brandishing it like a sword before giving Draco a most unsettling and manic grin. "Let us go forth unto the breach, my lord. After all, you did spend your summer learning the dark arts most wicked. Let's put them to use, shall we?"

**o0o**

They had barely escaped with their lives. Draco didn't know if this man was incompetent or completely insane. Either way, he was certain that there was more than just luck on their side when he felt the pure and undiluted power, a dark and heavy thing, emanating from this man during the skirmish. Yet, he did not kill these men that had come for them. Draco had seen enough killing. Had seen enough death and torture during this last year to last a lifetime. He did not wish to see much more so soon. If ever.

And as if a loyal dog obeying its master's command, Toby had showed restraint. He had not killed... He had only maimed. And as they ran, into the forest once more for a clear and secret place to apparate from, he had given a fearful warning. More wolves would roam the halls of Malfoy Manor on the next moon. It could not be helped, to inflict such vicious damage during a moon cycle.

Draco reminded him he didn't need to use his own hands when he had a wand to do it for him.

They had left the forest from behind a dense bush; twisting and turning in the wake of a thunderous pop before arriving in a place full of light and life and noise. A place behind a fence to keep the unwanted out. Charred wood and broken walls. A ruin. A testament of a battle past.

Draco moved to stand beside a shattered window, the frame charred and the wood around it cracked and twisted. He peered out into the garden. "Where-" he began, but cut himself off when he heard a groan, followed by a thud behind him.

He turned quickly on his heel, just in time to see his companion slump forward on his knees, a hand to his side. "You've been splinched!" Draco exclaimed.

"No, no, it'll be alright. Happens... sometimes." He waved Draco away when the teen had come closer to examine him. "I'm not bloody splinched!" he growled when Draco pulled his hand away from his side to reveal a growing, spreading patch of red. "Guess I missed one. Followed us to the forest."

"You didn't smell him?"

"Too pumped with adrenaline. Too worried about getting you out."

"Why all this for me? You're going to get yourself killed. I'm not- I'm not important."

Toby smiled weakly, a knowing smile that Draco could not puzzle out. But it slipped from his features as he closed his eyes. Draco carefully caught him before he fell back, and gently laid him on the floor. For all this man's faults, for all his eccentricities and secrets, he still owed Toby his life. His freedom. He couldn't very well let him crack his skull on a piece of rubble in a ramshackle ruin.


	4. 3. Wards

Draco had cast a few basic healing spells, just to stop the bleeding. Just to patch him up. It was nothing like what he had witnessed the man doing to himself before. But it had been better than nothing at all. Afterwards he took to investigating their newest hiding place further. At close inspection, he was able to discover that this had once been a house. A wizarding house, judging by the fragments of photographs. Some of which still had figures moving in them... though obviously looking distressed.

A burned out staircase led up to a missing upper level. And a door, close to where Toby lay resting, he presumed led to a cellar below. He wanted to explore further, to go outside and see the remains of the building from the outside. Perhaps he might even recognize the area - but he dared not do so. It was far too dangerous, he knew. And until he was safely, if not unwanted, in the hands of the Order he would not risk falling back into the arms of the Dark Lord's followers.

"Won't. Here," Toby mumbled after a few hours of rest. Draco had seated himself on the opposite wall, legs pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. Watching the sleeping man as he counted down the hours until the sun would begin to dip low in the sky. Until he'd be stranded, once again, with a werewolf.

He didn't bother to ask, this time, what the man was on about. He did not want to sound like a parrot repeating the same few words over and over again. Instead, he waited. Keen grey eyes watching as the man stirred. Groaning as he moved; moaning as he pulled himself into a sitting position with his back pressed against the nearest wall. "We're safe here. It's one of the few places He fears."

Draco looked away when the steady silver gaze met his own. "The Dark Lord fears nothing."

"He fears a boy. And rightly so." He checked his pockets, panicking when he found his knife was not there. A quick gesture from Draco, removing it from where he had tucked it into his belt, reassured the wolf that the portkey was safe. "Rightly so."

"Potter is little more than a mediocre wizard with sheer dumb luck."

"Potter is..." he trailed off, catching Draco's attention. "Complicated."

"He's a spoiled prat. He gets points for breaking rules while the rest of us have to sit in detention. Receive punishments from less than acceptable professors. He's the Headmaster's favorite simply because he's Harry bleeding Potter, The Boy Who Lived. Everyone adores him, and pampers him and-"

"Jealous much?" Toby's tone was light and full of mirth. Draco hissed angrily at him.

"How much longer must I endure your dreadful company?"

He shrugged. "Much, much longer. I promised your mother-"

"And about my mother!" Draco snapped, having already been wound up about Harry it was easy to vent his frustrations into another topic. "You keep your filthy mongrel hands off my mother! Just because my father is in Azkaban-"

"What? Cousins can't show kindness and compassion to each other? Well, that's certainly old fashioned thinking. Then again, with all the inbreeding... no surprise you're a bit on edge."

"On edge? On edge! I saw the way you looked at her!"

"I assure you, there is nothing between me and Cissa! I'm a married man and I love my wife and children very much!"

"No one is allowed to call- Wait, what?"

Toby gave him a wolfish grin. "I'm married. I have a wife, whom I absolutely worship. And seven wonderful, intelligent and strong willed children."

"...Oh..."

"Exactly."

"So who exactly are you then?"

"Certainly not your mother's lover."

Draco felt his cheeks flush, but bit back his embarrassment. "You said cousin? I wasn't aware mother had any other cousins. Living, at least."

Toby shook his head with a sigh. "Distant cousins," he said, spinning the yarn he had spent months planning out in his mind. "Very distant branch of the Black family, from southern France. Burned off the wall, I believe. Much like your aunt Andromeda. While your dear cousin Nymphadora Tonks is roaming free, we couldn't allow the last of the true Blacks to fall in with the wrong sort of wizards now could we? Family honor was at stake." He paused. Draco could see the moment this man slipped into deep concentration. His brows furrowed, then suddenly relaxed. The tenseness left his body, if only briefly, and he seemed to be so far away yet present with Draco all at once. "Draco, what time is it?"

"You've got a wand," he said. "Cast your own tempus charm."

"They never quite work right for me. You do it."

Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion, then sighed. But his sigh was more than just exasperation. It was exaggerated - a sound made as if his companion were asking far too much of him. And that all of what he was asking had been so mundane and beneath him that it was not even worth the energy it took to think about how to properly complain about it. He cast the appropriate charm, parroting the information back to him.

"Good. We've a solid ten minutes then. Help me up."

"Get yourself up."

"Draco..."

"No. I don't trust you. I don't like you. I'm only putting up with you until I get to safety. Then you're on your own. Besides, you might decide I smell good and take a bite."

"If I'd wanted to _take a bite_ do you think I'd have bothered to get you this far?"

"Tenderizing the meat?"

"That just sounds... You know what you ungrateful little clod pole, I'm not even going to bother arguing. I've got a headache the size of a house and I'm in no shape to risk death by breaking my vow. So let's just work together now and kill one another after the war alright."

Draco watched as he pushed against the wall, trying to get to his feet unaided. It took a bit of doing, but he managed with a bit of a stagger. "Bring me the knife," Toby said, one hand pressed against the wall, the other reaching out. Waiting to be filled. "What are you waiting for? We've only got one shot at this, and I'll be damned if I have to go to my backup plan."

"You mean this is the first plan you came up with? What's the backup plan?"

"It involves vampires, hedgehogs, and a very angry leprechaun. Please Draco. I haven't the time nor the energy to waste."

Hesitantly, the teen moved closer, holding the knife out handle first. That was a mistake, as when the wolf's hand grasped it, he pulled with a slight slashing motion, cutting Draco's hand in the process. "You stupid-"

"I know I know. Somebody gets hold of a wizard's blood, bad things go down. My grandparents wrote the book on dark arts and necromancy. But I've worked damn hard on this, and there's just no other way. The Black family's ancient blood wards require Black family blood," Toby said, cutting his own hand. "Dumbles is smart. Too smart. But I'm clever and if we're lucky I'm just clever enough to have found a way around his hold on good old Number 12. It's not the worst you've endured the last few months, your little lordship." He smirked. Mentally ticking down the minutes until the portkey would activate. "Hold on and for the love of Merlin don't you dare let go. Might find your head with the Order while your arse ends up stuck in the Potter's cottage."

Before Draco could further protest or question, Toby had grabbed his uninjured hand and pressed it to the handle of the knife, then placed his own larger hand over it. His palm and fingers stung from where they had been sliced open. Throbbing as his blood flowed freely from his hand, falling away into the void as they were sucked through space. Moving across the distance from wherever this place was to wherever his mother's family's home sat.

**o0o**

In the moments following Albus Dumbledore's leaving Number 12, Grimmauld Place there was a great commotion as the semi-sentient magic of the wards cried out. Screaming as they were ripped through from the outside. Aurors were on alert as members of the Order searched room by room for the source of this.

Walburga Black's shrill voice exploded from the portrait behind her curtains as the very foundation of the house shook under the assault. The fires in the grates of every room burst into life before dying back as two figures appeared in the kitchen, hovering at first over the long table before dropping quite forcefully down. The larger figure's limbs were wrapped tightly around the smaller as if to protect them. Two distinctly different hands clutched the hilt of a knife tightly for dear life.

Molly Weasley had screamed when they had appeared.

Mad Eye had pushed forward and thrust his wand against the pale cheek of the teenager who had fallen from the larger figure's protective hold when they had hit the table.

Chaos had erupted as some tried to repair the wards. Others stood ready to attack the intruders. And the hairs on the back of Remus Lupin's neck stood on end as he caught the scent of a fell creature in the kitchen.

"Draco safe?" was all the man had uttered before losing consciousness. But his presence mattered little compared to that of his teenaged charge.

Draco Malfoy lay unmoving on the floor where he had landed, surrounded by paranoid aurors. "Check him!" Mad Eye crowed, his false eye darting this way and that. He could see clearly that Draco did not bear the Dark Mark his father was so famous for wearing with pride. But the paranoid old bastard had been fooled before, by polyjuice nonetheless. And he wasn't going to take any chances with this one. "Go on!"

Bill Weasley, the only one with enough sense to check and see if the boy was even still alive, confirmed their fears. It was indeed Draco Malfoy - but blessedly, there was no Mark to try and conceal.

**o0o**

Draco's head was spinning when he awoke. The last thing he remembered was leaving the ruined house. Traveling by portkey and, when they were nearly there, discovering the wards in place were far stronger than Toby had anticipated. Did they make it through? Or were they forced elsewhere? Quickly he sat up, immediately regretting his decision and lay back down against the musty pillow.

He closed his eyes, breathed slow, and tried to will the world into submission. For he did not want it spinning at all, let alone as quickly as it had chosen to do.

Turning over onto his side, he found himself quite sore all over. His stomach lurched, and he felt the need to expel its contents. But swallowed the feeling back. That is, until he felt the probing at the edges of his thoughts. Different from the violent raping of his memories he had endured in his own home, but an unwelcome intrusion nonetheless.

He clenched his eyes tighter, curling in on himself as he struggled to keep his thoughts to himself. To think of nothing - but the more he tried, the more he found it impossible to do.

Just when he felt he could fight no more, he opened his eyes to see, chained to the wall across the room from him, a rather annoyed looking red wolf. Though, how he knew Toby was annoyed, he could not hope to guess really. But... if he were chained up, he'd be rather annoyed, too.

Slowly getting his bearings, he discovered that his wand was confiscated. He could not even use it to see the time of day or night.

Further inspection of his surroundings showed that he was certainly not back in his childhood home. Perhaps they had made it through after all? He relaxed just a little, breathing easy. At least this place didn't look like another of the Death Eater safe houses. And despite his companion's chains, he was relatively safe. "Later," he said, finding his voice hoarse. "You and I are going to have a serious discussion about what exactly is going on and why you feel the need to both save and ruin my life at the same time."

"Talking to dogs now are we Mal _foy_?"

His eyes snapped open, his body tensed as he heard the all too familiar and hateful voice of one Ronald Weasley. He sat up again, swallowing back the bile that threatened once more to come up from the sudden movement. Toby growled from his place across the room, but didn't bother to lift his head. Silver eyes watching the closed door, where Weasley believed himself to be completely safe on the other side.

"If there's ever someone you do kill when I'm not looking," Draco muttered under his breath as he listened for the footsteps to trail away. "That's the one."

The wolf seemed to smile at him with only his eyes, showing Draco exactly how much of the man was truly present within the beast. Draco lay back again, sleep coming uneasily even under the watchful gaze of his canine guardian.

**o0o**

He came to with lungs full of dust and wolf musk. That indefinable scent he had become accustomed to while living the lie as one of Lord Voldemort's savage dogs. Just to get into the manor. Just to get close to Narcissa Malfoy. But now... No, this one was different. Cleaner, for one thing, than the others. And did not carry the stink of a large pack but rather...

"You're awake," said the man crouching beside him.

He lifted his head just barely, the heavy iron collar on his neck preventing him from doing more. "Release me," he growled, trying to look up at the face of the man who he knew was another like himself. Another beast in the skin of a man until the next full moon. "I won't-"

"According to Tonks you tried to take Mad Eye's arm off."

"He tried to harm Draco."

"And you were protecting him."

"You'd do the same for Potter," Toby challenged, lifting his head just a little higher. "You can either release me, or I'll release myself. But one way or the other I'm gonna get a pair of pants because this floor is freezing my bits."

"I'll bring you some clothes."

"And my wand."

"That's up to-"

"Dumbles, yeah. I figured. Not like I need it," he said, challenge in his voice. But he was careful not to raise his tone, not to make himself louder... Draco was still sleeping. "Is he safe? Is he-"

"For now."

"Good," Toby muttered, lowering his head again. Remus stood upright, still sore himself from the painful transition of man to beast and back again the night before. "I meant it," the stranger said when Lupin reached the door. "I'll get this thing off myself if no one else does it for me."

"That's iron molded over silver. Unless you'd like to lose an eye and a couple of fingers, I don't see the point in trying." He opened the door stepping out quickly so that another man could enter. He closed the door behind him carefully so as not to wake up the teen in the bed.

"Stupid stupid boy," he hissed, black robes billowing with each step he took. Purple, green, red, and blue vials held tightly in his hands. "What were you thinking-"

"Well, for one, would you mind getting me some pants?"

"I wasn't talking to you, mongrel."

"Oi!" he snapped, and Draco started to stir. So he lowered his voice. "I saved his arse from a fate worse than death. And trust me, it's better Moldy Voldy get his knickers in a twist instead of poor Draco 'ere getting branded as a slave."

"How did you force your way inside? The headquarters are under the _fidelus_ -"

"I'm a Black. How the bloody hell do you think I got us in here? Sheer dumb luck?"

That greasy head turned and at last the potions master looked at him for the first time since entering the room. "You could have killed him."

"And you're going to if you mix all four of those at once you idiot. Any decent student of the natural magical arts knows you don't want to give the blood replenisher at the same time as the blood thinner. As a matter of fact, you shouldn't be giving him the green one at all before checking for internal injuries and deep tissue bruising."

"And what should I be giving him then?" he challenged, eyes narrowed as if sizing up his prey.

"Well for one he's been nauseas every time he sits up so you'll want to check for a concussion. Then you'll need to mix a small amount of skelegrow in with the blood replenisher. I know they say don't mix the two, but what they don't tell you in healer training is that by using the replenisher at the same time you stimulate the creation of natural blood vessels which, according to muggle science, are created within the bones themselves. Thus you don't need to use as much of the replenisher. Also, you haven't put poppy into that pain relieving potion have you? Because it can cause severe side effects if taken in large doses. I mean, severe addiction to the opium as well as hallucinations and withdrawal sickness when no longer on the potion."

Those eyes had narrowed further as he prattled on and on. Of course Snape knew the risks of using poppy in pain relieving potions, which is why his personal recipes did not include such an ingredient. As for the mixing of the skelegrow and the replenisher... The mention of muggle science had intrigued him. But he did not allow this to show. Instead, "Where were you trained?"

"I'm an American who lived in Venice, and my branch of the family comes from the south of France."

"There are no Blacks in the south of France."

"The extreme south?"

"Liar."

"I..." Finally Toby looked away from the potions professor, finding him even less desirable company than in his future portraits. "Dabbled after completing my education. It was a family trade. We endeavored to combine muggle science with potion lore."

Then, he was promptly ignored. Though he did notice that the green bottle remained untouched. And the skilled fingers had felt around the back and sides of Draco's head. His sallow face gave nothing away, unfortunately. So Toby sighed and put his head back down, waiting for the man to leave so that he may rid himself of the heavy iron collar and chain.

He did not need to wait much longer. The moment the door shut and locked behind, Toby's hands were on the collar. He'd had to roll onto his back in order to properly grasp it at either side of his neck. Apparently it had been charmed to grow with him, and to retract when he returned to his normal state. He pulled with all his might, hoping that what strength he had left from the moon cycle would at least provide a little give to the metal. After this he tried every lock-breaking spell he knew with no success. Casting his gaze as wide as he could, he spotted a quill beneath the wardrobe.

After a quick _accio_ he was using it in conjunction with an improvised skeleton key made of wood to try and pick the lock on his collar. He'd nearly gotten it when the door opened again and clothes were tossed at him by a motherly looking woman. He could only assume this was Molly Weasley.

"Thank you," he said.

"Headmaster Dumbledore has sent for you," she said, keeping her eyes averted. "An auror will be here shortly to release you and bring you down."

He fumbled with the clothes, finding them not quite to his liking but better than remaining starkers in chains like some sexual deviant. Not that he minded... just not quite in this situation. True to her word, an auror came. None other than the paranoid Mad Eye Moody himself. The collar was removed, only to be replaced with iron manacles. He didn't bother to point out that these were bloody useless unless, like the chain and collar, it was iron molded over silver.

But his neck was free, so that was a tick in the plus column. "May I?" he said, looking towards Draco.

Mad Eye gave him a grunt and pushed him towards the door. It was locked behind them before Toby was marched down the hall to the stairs. Shadows at the bottom of doors, and half-seen figures in cracked passages told him that many of the inhabitants, most likely Weasleys, were watching and listening.

As they marched down the stairs, then across another landing, Toby stopped and inhaled deeply. Then, smiled and moved on. "Potter's here, isn't he?" he asked as if it were the most normal thing to say in the world. He knew Harry had arrived sometime during the night. He'd recognize that comforting, familiar scent anywhere. Moody pushed him on. "What? I'm just trying to make polite conversation.

"Save yer words for Albus," he snarled behind him. So Toby jovially chatted, knowing full well it got on the auror's nerves, all the way down the stairs until at last he was brought before a door. The sitting room, he remembered. At least, it had been when he'd last been in this house.

The door was opened and he was pushed in. Inside sat Severus Snape, Remus Lupin, and Albus Dumbledore. With a pot of tea.

"Welcome," the Headmaster said politely with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"You know," Toby said giving the best smirk he could conjure, a look which had caused Lupin's eyes to go wide in response. "I do believe my grandparents were right."

"Right about what, my boy?"

"You are shorter in person." That wasn't what he'd wanted to say. He'd had a few choice words ready for this moment. But now, he realized, would not be the ideal time to unleash them. "Now then, I do believe you wish to interrogate me while attempting to put me at ease with a nice cuppa and some candies. Sorry, I'll pass on the candies, but the tea would be divine."


	5. 4. Veritas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPECIAL AUTHORS' NOTE FROM THE START: We've had someone complain about some scenes seeming to just get really good and then we jump to another without explaining anything as to how they escaped or who said what next or whatever. Well, there's a reason for that. And it's actually plot relevant. Not only is it plot relevant, it's actually a pretty darn big deal and magical and important to Draco's characterization in our AU, so shut it and be patient. We'll be getting there, and you'll see how it all comes together. I won't single out who complained. They know their shame. Now please, continue reading our lovely fic.
> 
> Also, important announcement concerning future posting of chapters in the end notes.

Harry had risen from his bed to peer into the hall at the first sound of footsteps. He had heard, but hadn't yet seen, that Draco Malfoy had been locked into one of the more secure rooms in the headquarters. Ron had told him as much when he'd arrived with Dumbledore. He'd just pressed his ear to the wood, hearing muffled voices through it, when he remembered the words of warning Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given him when he'd come through the door.

The footsteps were gone, soon to be replaced by a knock at his door. Standing back he opened it to see his two best friends, and an extra Weasley. The three pushed their way in, Hermione chattering excitedly about the man Moody had just taken to meet the headmaster. Ron and Ginny inserting their own thoughts on the matter, and what they'd been told by their older brother and parents.

The four of them settled on Harry's bed, continuing their conversation. More and more Hermione expressed her worries, and Ron did his best to reassure her.

"He's out of it, 'Mione. Fred and George reckon he's gone totally bodmin, taking to the werewolf when he was all fur and teeth like he can understand him."

"He might," Hermione replied. "Remember third year? When Professor Lupin started to change, and for a few moments Sirius was able to get through to him?"

"But he still changed and tried to eat us, didn't he?"

Harry listened to the familiar argument, but tuned it out and turned to Ginny. "What does your mum have to say?"

"Well," she said, leaning in and linking arms with him. "Apparently when they arrived, they shattered the wards on the house. Completely destroyed them, so she says. And all the fireplaces shot up full of flame. And Mrs. Black started screeching, but she does that anyway so it hardly matters. Next thing, there they are. Floating over the kitchen table then WHAM! Bill says they hit so hard Malfoy broke an arm. And he sliced his hand up pretty good, too. Both of them did."

"They didn't look too good, either," Hermione added. "Both of them looked half starved. I wonder what happened to him..."

Ron grinned, his mind conjuring a few rather amusing ideas. "With any luck, something that knocked Malfoy off his pedestal."

His sister reached out and pinched his arm, giving it a twist. Ron shouted in surprise and a pain, rubbing at the place where she'd got him. "What was that for?!"

"You know who's living in his house! I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy!"

"Our worst enemy IS living in his house," Ron barked back.

A ginger head poked into the room from the door, followed by another identical one. "Hey, they're bringing Malfoy down next."

Harry watched his friends. Ron grinning from ear to ear. Hermione shaking her head with a sigh. Ginny seemed to be the only one who really didn't give a toss. "Guys," he said. "Let's not... You know. It sounds like he's been through a lot."

"Harry, he's been tormenting us for the last five years. He and his friends got us caught by Umbridge, and his dad's the reason Sirius-"

"Don't you think I know that!" Harry snapped, cutting his friend off suddenly. He could feel his anger trying to get the better of him. Ron was right. Malfoy had bullied them from day one. But from what he had heard after his arrival, the condition the other boy had been in when they'd come seeking safety... He couldn't allow it. He didn't have to like him, he didn't have to get along with him. But he didn't have to let his friends stoop to Malfoy's level.

"Well?" one of the twins, Fred, asked.

"Leave him alone." Harry drew in a few breaths, calming himself. "He's injured. And maybe, just maybe, having to be here is going to force him to be nice. Let's wait and see how things go. There's more important problems than Draco Malfoy."

Ron looked disappointed. Hermione gave a nod, showing that this was the answer she'd hoped for. Harry looked to Ginny again. She didn't seem at all pleased, but gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "As long as he doesn't try to start anything, I'll leave him alone. But the moment he opens his mouth about my family..." She let the unspoken warning hang in the air.

It was the best Harry could hope for.

 

**o0o**

Half-way through Dumbledore's interrogation, he'd ordered Snape and Lupin to leave. The potions master was more than happy to oblige until the headmaster had tacked on that he bring Draco in shortly. Remus, on the other hand, was wary to leave an unknown werewolf with the leader of the Order.

Especially when that werewolf had discovered a way to evade the questions put to him, despite the veritaserum Dumbledore had made Snape put in the tea before the young man had been brought in.

Once the room was cleared, and a cheery farewell from the stranger given to the two men leaving, Dumbledore focused his full attention upon him.

"You know," Toby said, taking another sip of his tea. "I know this excellent Irish blend that matches well with the potion you put in this. Masks the tang a bit better than earl grey."

"You can taste it? I was assured-"

"Oh, most people can't I'm sure," Toby said, setting his cup onto the saucer in his lap. Then leaning forward to place the saucer on the small table between his chair and the other three. The chain binding his wrists rattled with his movement. "But my grandmother used to spike the tea whenever there was a problem with the family. Probably gained the idea from you, I suspect. This is very fine china, if you don't mind my saying. Though, real bone china is far more durable than this conjured stuff."

Dumbledore sat back in his seat, stroking his beard as blue eyes took in the sight before him. The man was tall, but held his limbs awkwardly, as if he were not quite used to their size. And he wore a constant smile, and gave an air of joviality. But his silver gaze told another, darker story. A man who had seen far too much before his time. A man burdened with more responsibility than he was ready for.

It was a look he often saw in young Harry's eyes as well. The sad look of a man, a boy beaten down by life. Perhaps... if he played this right-

"Don't even bother trying to sway me over. You're not called the Master of Headgames for nothing. And for the love of Salazar stop trying to look into my head. It's not going to bloody work so just ask the damn questions already. I mean, that is what I'm here for. You didn't want to know where I'd trained or where I come from. You hadn't expected me to be so compliant. Veritaserum usually causes the drinker to experience pain and often times convulse until the antidote is given. It's why you used the fake china rather than the real china from the good cabinet."

As he'd been speaking, Toby fixed him with a fierce silver stare before looking away again. He fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, then brushed imaginary dirt off his trousers. He examined the room closely without ever leaving his seat. Scrutinizing the clearly old world decor and mentally comparing it to his uncles' tastes years from now. It was quite an odd feeling, when he realized, knowing that Walburga Black would, in roughly a decade, be replaced with a painting of her disowned son Sirius.

"And be specific. Your question about who I am had the lads bored to tears."

"Yes, that was a very clever diversion-"

"No, it's called open to interpretation. If you want my identity, ask for it. If you don't want my life story, don't say the word _who_. A man is the sum total of his memories, experiences, and his personal social network. Without those, a man is not a who but rather a loose cloud of ideas and nothing more. _So. Be. Specific_."

He knew he was being a right prat. He knew he was being absolutely unhelpful. Most of all he knew he was telling the absolute truth because despite his high tolerance of the stuff thanks to his rather crafty Gryffindor grandmother, he could not outright lie. And, of course, squabbling over the definition of words and the actual interpretations were rather amusing to him, and a very exploitable weakness in the validity of veritaserum. Always had been.

So, it began. Again. The same questions, simply phrased differently. And it went on like this until there came a knock at the door. Toby craned his neck to see, having purposely been placed in the chair with its back to the door. A gruff looking woman plodded in, moved one of the chairs from beside the headmaster to place it next to Toby.

And Draco, looking the worse for wear, was put into it. He leaned over, having to reach out with both hands rather than the one due to the chain, and lightly touched his arm. "Are you alright?"

Dumbledore watched the sudden shift in the man's personality. From arrogant and comical to compassionate and concerned. The tone of his voice as it dropped to a whisper. Quietly, worriedly assuring himself that the boy was comfortable. That he was rested. All but the two Order members who had brought Draco in left them again. And the Headmaster gave a little cough to get both young men's attention.

"I know the game you're playing at," Toby growled.

"What game would that be then?"

Draco's head snapped up as he felt the familiar sensation of fingers combing through his mind; grey eyes locked in a heated glare at the headmaster. A look of pure contempt and hatred on his face before Dumbledore's face took on a stricken look. And Toby knew what the man had just done. He could not force himself into the werewolf's mind to see what he wanted. So he took from the boy instead.

"You filthy, vile-"

"Toby don't. It's not..."

"You all but violated him!" Toby snarled, but did not rise from his chair.

"And you ripped the wards of this house apart like a hot knife slices through butter. Leaving our headquarters defenseless. You have been uncooperative-"

"That gives you no right to force yourself into another man's memories! A man's mind is his sacred palace! And should be treated with respect!"

"The enemy believes otherwise-"

"As do you, you doddering old fool!" His voice was filled with rage. One hand gripped the armrest of his chair, fingers digging into the cloth, then the wood as if they still bore the powerful claws of his full moon form. His other hand clenched into a fist, unable to reach the other armrest, the length of chain too short to allow him even that small distance. His nails dug into his already tender flesh, reopening the self-inflicted wound that had enabled him to, as many had put it, rip apart the wards to gain entry.

Nostrils flared as he exercised the most restraint he had ever put forth. "Draco," he all but snarled, and the teen tensed in horror. Once again sensing, feeling the full depth of the darkness of the man's power. The wild ferocity of his magic.

"No!" Draco shouted with more courage than he felt. But he knew this man listened to him, for whatever reason, and would obey his commands despite his own feelings otherwise. "Calm yourself! You are not an animal, you are a man! Now act like one!"

Toby continued to grip the armrest and clench his hand, but he relaxed, some. There was no other option. After a hard look from the teen, he gave a small nod of his head and closed his eyes. He exhaled a shaky breath and slumped back in submission. But not defeat. "As you wish," he muttered under his breath when he felt it were safe enough to speak.

Dumbledore raised his hand to signal to the two guards, who had moved to flank him during the werewolf's anger, to stand down. "Now let's start again," the Headmaster said calmly, as if the last five minutes had never happened. "Who are you?"

Toby would not look at him, for fear of becoming so violently angry again. "My name is Tobias Black." It wasn't a complete lie... Not really. His middle name had been Tobias. And technically, he had been called Lord Black despite the lack of the actual surname. "And a werewolf."

"Yes, that was quite obvious from your attack on Alistor shortly after your transformation yesterday evening." He reached into the seat beside him to pull out a small paper bag of sweets. He offered one to Draco, but the teen had enough sense to decline.

"Why did you risk your life to save young Mr. Malfoy?"

"I swore to his mother I'd get him the fu... I'd get him out of there before the Mark was forced on him."

"It's true, headmaster. Before they had come to collect me my mother and Toby had hidden me in passages and cupboards scattered throughout the manor."

Albus nodded. At least that suspicion had been confirmed. "Now then, my boy," he said, addressing Draco directly. "Where is your mother?"

The two were silent. Swallowing hard, Draco answered. "She remained behind. Providing cover for our escape from the manor and onto the grounds. She..."

"She and I had not planned for her to leave with us. The Mark connects her to the Dark Lord, and it would have been counterproductive to rescue her son only to lead Tom Riddle straight to him in the end."

Toby watched Dumbledore from the corner of his eye. He wanted to see the man's reaction to the Dark Lord's true name. He received nothing of use, and filed away the excess data for later reflection. "I took Draco to an isolated place I am familiar with. We then spent the night in a muggle tavern to recuperate from months spent suffocating in the Dark Lord's poisonous atmosphere. We fed, we drank, we slept. The following morning wizards arrived searching for us. In my planning, I had forgotten that Draco is yet only sixteen, and still has the underage wizard trace on him. We were found. We fought to escape with minimal muggle injuries. We ran to the forest and apparated to another secure location. Does that answer your questions of our whereabouts following our escape? We didn't abandon Narcissa. She helped me to plan it all."

He was bluffing, some. She had indeed known she would need to separate from her son. But they had hoped to have gotten out together. To have more time. To explain the situation properly. Not this ramshackle mess...

Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. "Your swore to Mrs. Malfoy to rescue her son. Was this a binding oath or did you simply give your word?"

Draco looked at him expectantly. Toby turned his head, just enough, to watch him. "It... It was an Unbreakable Vow."

"Who officiated?"

Toby cast his eyes to the empty chair that Snape had been seated in. Then back again to Dumbledore. "We- I cast the _Imperius_ on one of the other werewolves in the pack. She had no idea she was doing it. Then after... Narcissa _obliviated_ all traces from her memory. We did not know Professor Snape could be trusted, else we would have turned to him for help. He plays his part very well."

"You have been quite lucky to have gotten this far on your own," Dumbledore said. "Why have you come here?"

Draco was the one who answered. "Sanctuary."

"How are we to provide sanctuary if we have no defenses?"

"Blood wards," Draco said simply. And indeed it was once he knew the method Toby had used, the slicing of their hands to create a decent bloodflow, to undermine the headmaster's wards by breaking those of the ancestral magic itself. "We broke them. We can repair them. We are both members of the Black bloodline. The ancestral magic will recognize us, and allow us to restore the wards. Perhaps even strengthen them. We use the same system at Malfoy Manor... or... we used to."

"What if you are spies sent to sabotage our headquarters? This house is unplottable, and was placed under a _fidelus_ charm. None but the secret keeper may speak its location. It puzzles me, how you came into this knowledge when we have taken great pains to keep it concealed."

"I..." Draco turned his attention to Toby once more for an answer. After all, it was that crazed wolf that had dragged him here in the first place. "I will answer that question. And others. On one condition."

"You are not in a position to make demands."

"You and I will speak alone."

"After your threat to kill me? That hardly seems the safe thing to do."

"Then chain me in silver. I don't care. But these are matters that I cannot discuss with company." When Dumbledore opened his mouth to insist once more, he adopted his mask. That mask all Malfoys bear and whip out at any time. The one that gives nothing away. Nothing but the obvious intent of deliberate concealment. "When did he tell you?" he asked suddenly.

"Tell me what?"

Toby glanced to Dumbledore's hand. Eyes narrowed as he easily picked apart every detail. Ticking off every item one by one. He'd recently had a bit of pudding with plum sauce, evidenced by the stickiness on the index finger and thumb. He'd dropped a bite down his robes, and with the finger and thumb picked it up. The stain made his robes a slightly darker shade of purple in each place it had landed as it bounced down in escape. His nails had recently been manicured - odd given that the style was popular with the women of the period... not the men. One theory of the historical figure confirmed. Raised black veins just barely visible. A tracery of poison and decay... The second theory... Ah. There...

The root of the problem sitting upon his very finger. "When did Professor Snape tell you, headmaster? That you won't last the year."

 

**o0o**

Draco had insisted on remaining in the room, but had been thrown out when Dumbledore became angry. Not at Toby, as such, but the fact that he had known a secret very few in the Order were aware of. Toby flippantly had replied he didn't know, he saw, and smirked because he'd remembered his father often saying nearly the same thing over and over to astonished clients.

He'd been led out by the two guards, and had met Fred and George Weasley on the way back up to his not-a-cell room. Despite his situation, he held his head high. Despite his concussion, he maintained an air of perfect health. And though he did not toss out the occasional pureblood propaganda speech, he made sure to make a few disparaging comments of them being poor and being weasels.

But his black little Slytherin heart just wasn't in it. When he caught sight of Harry, Hermione, and Ron... There wasn't really anything to say. He decided on giving Ron his obligatory insult, but held back when it came to Hermione. He wasn't thick. He knew if he had any hope of a chance of surviving in the world he was now thrust into he would need her help. Loathe to admit it as he was, he would need her to convince the remaining two-thirds of the Golden Trio that he was not stealing information.

And that the werewolf he had been stuck with wasn't going to actually eat anyone.

Except the Headmaster.

And possibly Ron, if Draco was feeling particularly vicious that day.

He was led up the third set of stairs, and returned to his room. Food and water waited on a tray - but these he did not touch. There were still some who doubted the authenticity of his need.

Moving slowly he explored the room. It had apparently been used regularly. Judging by the way he had woken to find his canine companion, he had little doubt that this had been Professor Lupin's room.

Draco had just decided to look through the books in the meager collection on the shelves beside the bed when there came knock at his door. So soft he nearly missed it. He hummed in acknowledgement, but moments passed and the door had not unlocked and opened. "Come in," he called when it became apparent that whomever it was clearly would not do so without spoken orders.

He stared at the door from the corner of his eye as he turned through a Tibetan text on lycanthropy and what to do if you are one. He'd half expected to find Toby, or another one of those blasted auror members come to berate or drag him back downstairs.

Instead, the door opened just enough for a body to slip through before closing again. "So that's how you get around after curfew is it?" Draco drawled, tearing his gaze away when the first shock of black hair had been revealed. "Pity, I had three at the manor."

"What are you doing here Malfoy?"

"Same as you, I suspect. Running away from home. Seeking protection from those greater than yourself."

"I'm not running-"

"Obviously you are," Draco sighed boredly. He really didn't want to start a fight. He didn't have the energy to pay it the attention it properly deserved. "When have you ever finished the summer with your true relations? Honestly, Potter. I think the papers know more about what you're doing than you yourself." The words were meant to be harsh, to be cruel, but they were far less scathing than he wished them to be. "Look, if you are here to gloat over my misfortune then make an appointment with my secretary."

"He might try to chew my arm off," Harry muttered.

"Actually," came a quiet, low voice behind him. Harry turned as Draco closed the book. "I much prefer paranoid and crippled old aurors. Gryffindors tend to be a bit... stringy. Not nearly tenderized enough…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tem and Z (the writers of these lovely tales) are stuck in the same family crisis since they're both part of the same family. This crisis was ongoing, but has now developed into absolute chaos. Won't go into details of it here, but it may have a drastically negative effect on the fanfic.  
> That said, expect delays, as we may have little to no regular internet access in the coming months. There may at some point be a whole month between updates.  
> However, despite the potential problems and delays the fic may suffer, we would like you to know that this is basically our default writing process:  
> starts with writing EVERY RUDDY CHAPTER AND SCENE BY HAND ON LINED COLLEGE-RULED PAPER AND SHOVED INTO A NOTEBOOK. Then it's typed, proofed, printed, beta'd, proofed again, beta'd, then given a quick martini before posting. Then it's printed again for a final hardcopy to share with friends and loved ones.  
> So, the fic may not update as quickly, but when it does, expect possibly 2-3 chapters at a time. Or if we're feeling particularly creative - bulk posting!  
> To quote the creator's final message to his creation - _**We apologize for the inconvenience.**_


	6. 5. Oath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive us for the severe delay in updating this fic. We had a death in the family, and one writer had to move twice in 2 weeks. Internet access was spotty at best, and all we had to work with were smartphones. Access is still an issue, but not nearly as bad as it was. Scheduling for writing together is difficult at the moment, so delays will be slow coming. Sorry!

"Tobias," Draco drawled, placing the book he had been looking through back in its place upon the shelf. "You have news?"

"Yeah. Have you eaten? Drank?"

"My appetite isn't quite-"

"Just checking. That's expected with the potions you've been given. But you do need to try and get plenty of water. The more hydrated you are, the better the blood replenisher works. The better that works, the easier it is for your body to handle the Skele-Gro."

Harry stepped out of the way as the lanky wolf crossed the room, not giving the teen a second glance after the initial acknowledgement of his presence. Soft words when he neared Draco were spoken, but he could not decipher them without the aid of Fred and George's extendable ears. It was hard for Harry to see his rival in such a drastically different light. Vulnerable. Quiet. Angry, yes, but unwilling to engage in their customary animosity.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the voice of Nymphadora Tonks outside the door.

Toby glanced towards him then, one hand resting carefully on Draco's shoulder as he guided him back to the bed. Presumably to make him comfortable and rest his damaged body. "Cloak yourself, Potter. You might as well stay to hear the fruits of my efforts."

Harry didn't move until the door opened a second time. Quickly he dropped his invisibility cloak back over himself and stepped out of the way just in time to see Tonks revealed in the doorway. She didn't look pleased, and her normally brightly colored hair was a sombre black. "Albus will see to it you have room and board until you've made your decisions. Based on what you decide, because he is still in his minority, Malfoy will either be taken into Auror custody or he will be given sanctuary by the Order."

"And what's the third option?" Toby pressed, defiance clear in his voice. "If we choose to make our own way?"

"There isn't one. You either take the oath or you don't. I don't have a clue what you told him, but clearly he thinks you both have information valuable to the cause."

"I did what I had to do for my family," Toby all but barked. "And I offered my services to repair the wards on the building, with the new owner's help of course. Black blood is needed to restore the balance of the ancestral magic. Even a disowned cousin would know that. And a familial lord is necessary to pass complete ownership to Mr. Potter. Both requirements of which the little lord and I fulfill."

"Of course."

Harry listened as they continued their exchange. Tonks relaying the conditions Professor Dumbledore had decided to impose on the werewolf and his charge. And Toby responding with venomous defiance dripping from every word of acknowledgement and rebuke.

"Now, if you would be so kind," Toby said at the end of their banter. "It is time for the little lord's next potion, and I need time to consider the kindness that has been offered." Each word, to Harry's ears, had been carefully chosen and laced with a forced politeness that held within a touch of sarcasm. The man played nice, remaining in the chair he had placed himself in during the conversation. Making no sudden movements other than the slight movement of a finger. Ever so subtle - and the door was closed in the auror's face.

Again that finger moved, the same silent and minimal effort, before he let loose a loud sigh and slumped his shoulders. "Well, that was tedious."

Harry threw off his cloak and held it tightly in his left hand, even subconsciously knowing to keep his wand arm free and ready. This move, apparently, was not lost on the wolf as he turned silver eyes back to their guest.

"Take the offer," Harry said, glancing briefly to a now sleeping Draco. "Professor Dumbledore can give you sanctuary. He can protect you both."

"What can he do for us that we cannot do for ourselves?"

"He's the only wizard Voldemort-"

Toby rolled his eyes and rose from his chair at last. Stalking towards the cabinet Professor Snape had placed Draco's potions. "Wrong."

"Wrong? It's not wrong. Voldemort knows that he's no match for Professor Dumbledore. That's why he won't attack him openly."

Toby opened the cabinet, chewing his lip a moment before repeating himself and wrapping his fingers around a bright pink vial. "Wrong."

"Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard alive."

He uncorked the bottle and gave it a sniff before selecting another. One Harry knew very very well. Skele-Gro. "Wrong."

When Harry opened his mouth to speak again, Toby interrupted him. "I agree that professor Dumbledore is very powerful. He did defeat Grindlewald after all. And yes, in a duel both the headmaster and the Dark Lord are equally matched. But one is not more powerful than the other. That is very clear." He selected a third bottle, a dark red one, before taking the items over to a table and uncorking the other two. Harry followed, but kept his distance from the table. Watching as the man carefully measured out the contents of the bottles and, surprisingly, mixed them together in a glass of water.

"What-"

"The water thins it out and makes it easier to consume without losing the healing effects. The pink bottle is simply flavor. A sort of mixed berry. He won't drink it down otherwise. Can't stand the taste."

"I didn't know you could add-"

"You can, if you're careful," Toby replied, but would not let Harry change the subject so easily. "The Dark Lord does not fear the headmaster, Harry. He knows that he is a formidable opponent. Knows that as he has grown older, he has become a master strategist. Closer to a general than a simple school master. Hogwarts is not openly attacked because the Dark Lord knows that it is the headmaster's fortress. And that fortress is, as he has seen time and time again, well protected in many ways. Difficult to infiltrate, and even more difficult to escape alive." He re-corked the potions, and then stirred the concoction in the glass of water. It took on a muddy color, but there had in fact been a subtle scent of berries in the air. "The same applies to Malfoy Manor. It had taken me six moons of work to get close enough to the Malfoys to facilitate Draco's escape. An escape that nearly killed us both. We could never have gotten away had his mother not sacrificed herself to stall the hounds and the Dark Lord's followers."

Harry took this in silently, his green gaze wandering to Draco on the bed. Pale, sickly, and even in sleep his pain was obvious.

"It will take time to bring him back to his former strength. Now do you see the weight my decision carries? If the situation were reversed, and you were offered the choice between imprisonment and servitude, which would you choose Potter?"

"Joining the Order isn't servitude. It's the opportunity to save lives. To stop Voldemort and others like him from taking over the world." Anger rose in Harry's chest. Anger that the values and reasons for which he and his companions fought for meant so little to this stranger. Meant nothing more than... than...

"When you look at me," Toby said, interrupting his thoughts, "What do you see? Do you see a man? Do you see a bloodthirsty creature of darkness? Let me simplify it for you. When you look at Remus Lupin, is he a man or is he a beast?"

"He's my friend. The only one left who I can-"

"Can what?"

He clenched his fists and turned away, starting for the door. When he reached for the knob, he was stopped by Toby's words. "We are weapons, Harry. Some dull; some sharp. Some waiting to be pulled from the forge and molded. Single and double edged. Tools waiting to be used and explosions waiting to happen. Some weapons are more valuable than the rest while others are more effective. The Dark Lord does not fear Albus Dumbledore. He fears the most powerful weapon in the headmaster's fortress. Tell me, Harry Potter, with your blood running through the Dark Lord's veins, what is to stop him from breaching the blood wards on Privet Drive?"

Harry looked over his shoulder once to see Toby with his back to him, seated on the side of the bed with the glass in hand. Quietly and carefully urging Draco to drink from it.

He turned back to the door, unlocked it, and slipped from the room. The stranger's words stuck on repeat in his thoughts...

The only people to whom he had told the full events of the night Cedric Diggory had been killed were small in number. Three, if he were honest...

**o0o**

It had been a few days after he had snuck into their guests' room when Harry was instructed to help in the final reconstruction of the wards before he and the others would be heading back to Hogwarts for the term.

It was Tonks who had led them down into the hidden basement. An area of which only those who carried the blood of the Black family could pass. Though Harry, as the head of the family in name, was able to enter as the ancestral magic recognized the purpose for which he had been brought.

"Alright," Tonks said when the four of them reached the old stone door. "This is where I leave you."

"What? Aren't you coming in? You're a Black, too," Harry said.

She shook her head. But it was Draco who spoke. "Her mother was disowned and disinherited. If she walks through that door, the protective magic of the house will kill her. Very painfully."

"Did you have to add that last part?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Look Potter, let's just get through the door and get this over with alright. The less time I spend with you, the better."

Toby sighed. "And here I thought we were making progress..." he muttered. "Thank you, Miss Tonks. You know where to wait. This could take hours, it could take minutes. It depends on the damage we did coming in. So..."

"I know. I'll be well out of the way when you start," she said coldly back.

After tapping his wand to the door, muttering a few incantations, and giving it a bit of a push, Toby and the two teens stepped into the darkness beyond. The moment the door was pushed back into place, torches burst to life along the walls, meeting in the center of the opposite wall.

Harry looked around in wonder and apprehension. The walls were carved with runes, he was sure. But other symbols as well. Symbols he'd only ever seen briefly in the dark magic texts of the restricted section.

"Blood sigils," Toby explained, pulling a satchel from his pocket and enlarging it. Draco was unimpressed by the vault, for that is exactly what the room was. He'd been inside the ward rooms of Malfoy Manor and his family's other properties. But he had never needed to take part in the ritual to establish the wards before.

Quietly, he looked on as Toby removed item after item from the satchel. Laying them carefully on the wardstone altar. "Potter, come here a moment," Toby said.

Harry turned his attention to the werewolf, not wanting to stop his examination of the walls. "So... How do we do this?"

"Draco and I will repair the lines. You keep your hand on this altar. Whatever happens, do not interfere. Do not touch your wand. Do not move. And keep quiet until I tell you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he replied with a nod.

"Good. Draco it's time. A small one will do. If you start to feel weak, stop and I will do the rest."

"I don't need you to remind me," he muttered under his breath, taking out his wand at the same moment Toby did. He touched it to the palm of his hand and uttered a mild cutting curse. Hissing as the skin sliced open. Then his wand was placed back into his sleeve.

Harry's eyes went wide as he watched Draco, then Toby cut himself. The pair went to opposite sides of the room, using their newly injured hands to trace what the man had called blood sigils with their own blood. When the fresh scarlet touched the stone walls, the light of the torches died down to a dim smolder, orange-red dots glowing on the tops of the sconces as the walls lit up in shades of pink, red, and rust.

"Well, it could be worse," Toby said in amusement. "Shattered indeed. This won't take long. Draco, we'll go counterclockwise. Should have this done in no time at all."

As Harry watched them, they traced symbol after symbol. Each completed pair causing a string of light to cross the room to connect them. Each completed symbol turning a bright and brilliant red. The only sound in the room the echoes of the other teen and his companion chanting.

Toby finished first, stopping where Draco had started. Waiting for the teen to catch up. Once Draco had reached the end, he moved to the altar, placing his bloody hand upon it. Toby joined them, looking to Harry.

"Now comes your part to play in all of this," he said. "Give me your hand."

"What... What are you going to do?"

"Ancient magic, ancient method. In order for the House of Black to fully recognize you, you must mingle your magic with it. To do that, in this place..."

"Blood," Draco said. "You have to use your blood."

"But-"

Without warning, Toby's clean hand went for his wand. In seconds, Harry hissed and held the wrist of his wand arm angrily, glaring at the fresh line cut across his palm.

Toby and Draco put their bloody hands on the altar, both staring at Harry and waiting. Waiting for him to do the same. "Potter," Draco said when it became obvious Harry had no clue what was expected, nor did he want any part in it. "Touch the stone, and we can get out of here."

Harry looked from one to the other. Both of them staring back at him in expectation. "Harry," Toby said after a moment, lacking the sarcasm and wit he had taken to proudly displaying. It was replaced with a seriousness... and concern. "We cannot seal the wards in place until the new owner accepts what is offered."

"And what's that? The house? I don't even want it."

"Not just the house."

"Then what?"

"Power, Potter," Draco snapped. "The power of the Ancient and Most Noble house of Black. Everything that should have-"

"Not the time, little lord," Toby snapped, then turned his attention back to Harry. "But he's right. The magical power of our family will become yours. Everything that was in the name of Sirius Black, and indeed the entire family, will belong to you and you alone. Our allies will become yours. Our enemies will become yours. The titles, the wealth, everything. If only you would accept the terms."

"Terms... What terms? You never said anything about terms."

"I cannot speak them until you put your damn hand on the ruddy wardstone!" Toby snapped, a growl to his voice. Clearly frustrated. "And you have to do it willingly, or it won't take! Now put your damn hand on the stone!"

"No!"

"I would Imperius you... but unfortunately you're immune. The door won't open again until something is done. So, we can either stay in here and starve to death or we can get this over with."

They remained like this for quite a while as Harry continued to refuse, and Toby continued to shout at him to stop refusing so they could get this over with.

Finally, it was Draco that broke the stalemate, recognizing this opportunity for what it was. To avoid a forced oath to Albus Dumbledore and the Order. To avoid being used as a weapon against the Dark Lord in the headmaster's chess game.

"I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, hereditary lord of the House of Black and heir of the House of Malfoy, bind my magic and all that I have by the ancient rites of the sacred blood oath to Harry James Potter, scion of the House of Potter. I will not seek to harm him, nor will I influence others to do so. My life is his to take or keep as he sees fit, until the time he release me of this oath or death take me. Does the Lord Potter accept?"

Toby glanced at Harry, who stared at Draco with jaw slack and mouth hanging open in disbelief. He took advantage of the moment, and quickly followed Draco's example.

"I, Tobias Black, lesser lord of the House of Black and appointed guardian of Draco Malfoy, to whom my magic and all that I have is already bound, vow by the ancient rites of the sacred blood oath to protect, advise, and aid Lord Harry James Potter in any way I am able without breaking that oath which binds me to the Malfoy Heir. Putting the needs of both my master and my charge before all others, including my own. Does the Lord Potter accept?"

**o0o**

Tonks was startled into bright white hair when the trio appeared at the top of the stairs behind her. When she saw that all three looking pale and exhausted, it shifted to a soft mousy brown. She hadn't expected them to take as long as they had, but then again she'd been told the damage their guests had done was quite severe.

"It's done," Harry said, rubbing at the place across his palm where moments before they had been a deep red gash. Now, not even a blemish. But the feeling of the wound lingered still. Draco kept his eyes straight ahead. Toby kept an arm around his shoulders to keep the boy steady.

"Good. Everyone's been waiting for you guys to come back up. Tell them how it went and all."

She escorted the trio out of the basement and back into the kitchen where expectant faces all turned toward them. The moment Harry had entered the room, Ginny had rushed to him, throwing her arms around him tightly.

"Oh Harry! We were so worried! When Professor Dumbledore explained what was going on after the house shook-"

"The house shook?!" Harry exclaimed, pulling Ginny off him and looking to Hermione and Ron for confirmation. The pair of them nodded.

Mrs. Weasley gave a huff. "What you did was very dangerous young man. Having a child do such... such... vile magic. It's-"

"It was necessary," Snape said from the far end of the table. "True ownership of a bloodline so old and powerful requires equally old and powerful magic. Draco?"

"I'm fine," Draco said as he pulled away from Toby's supportive arm. He stood steady by sheer force of will and effort, fueled by the desire to appear strong and steady rather than the magical weakness he truly felt. "Just a little dizzy. Tobias administered the potions you prescribed after the ritual was completed."

When the cold potions master cut his eyes to Toby, the werewolf was surprised to see a flicker of warmth in the calculating stare before he gave a silent nod, which the potions master returned in approval.

Toby, slightly shaken by the brief show of emotion, brought his arms up and folded his hands behind his head with a big grin. "Well, all that's left is to give old beard face the latest feeds." Ears twitched as he heard Ron and Hermione whispering to one another, which only made his grin even wider. "Have you love birds got something to share with the class or do I need to embarrass you both by reading the texts out loud?"

Draco elbowed him, then sighed and shook his head as Toby didn't even flinch. "What?" the wolf replied. "Whispering behind people is rude, especially when you're whispering about someone that can actually hear it. I mean, Weasley I'd understand. Manners from a barn, that one. But Miss Granger should know better. Muggles are big on the whole manners thing. Especially the uptight sort like her folks."

"I beg your pardon!" Hermione exclaimed at the same time as Ron's "I'm not the one with no manners!"

Toby was just about to open his mouth again when the door to the kitchen opened on Remus and a face Toby didn't recognize from the family records. "Sorry to interrupt," the elder werewolf said, locking eyes with a silver gaze before pulling his attention back again. "Harry, the headmaster needs to see you in the parlour a few moments."

"Er... Yeah. Of course. What about-"

"We'll be along in a few ticks yeah. I'm sure old beard face can't wait to hear that the ferret and I are more than happy to chain ourselves to his old boat." Toby made a mock salute even as Draco elbowed him sharply again, causing the odd man to become more serious. "Run on Potter. We'll be along shortly."


	7. 6. Quiet

Tobias and Draco kept to themselves after the room's elder occupants filed out of the kitchen. Severus Snape made a point of ignoring the apprehensive and questioning stares of the Weasleys as he passed them. Watching the ever sour Snape go, his robes billowing behind him and giving him the bat-like appearance his grandparents had often laughed at with a distant and fond look in their eye, he couldn't help but think of his father. Couldn't help but take notice of the similarity in the demeanor. In the seeming chill his presence gave a room, and the slight disdain with which the man looked upon those around him, Toby saw then what would be in two years' time the shadow that would lend name to a similarly severe child.

"Too bad he didn't keep the name," Toby said, not realizing he'd spoken aloud. "Fit the old bloke well, too."

Draco cast an inquisitive eye towards him, brow raised but mouth closed. Quickly, he turned his attention to the room's remaining occupants as Toby continued to speak nonsensically to himself under his breath.

Granger busied herself with ignoring him while the Weasel kept shooting warning glares across the room at him. The Weaslet was busy trying to converse with Granger while trying to wrangle the malcontent orange mass wriggling in her arms.

"Crookshanks," Toby said, following Draco's line of sight. "Doesn't want to be near me. It's a cat versus dog thing. Though, admittedly, she quite likes the vicious bastards. Pretty fond of Padfoot I heard. And Moony as well." He shrugged. "I must've tried to take a swipe or two at her already."

"Recently I've found myself questioning your sanity," Draco said quietly. "As well as your competency as my representative."

"Guardian," Toby corrected. "I'm your official and legal guardian, protector, body guard, and all around attack dog. So long as Po-"

He was cut short by the kitchen door opening once more, the craggy half-face of Mad-Eye Moody followed. His gruff voice barking an order Draco barely deciphered, but Toby clearly understood. It was their turn. As they crossed the kitchen together, keeping their heads high and their backs straight, the wolf's ears pricked up as he heard the furtive whispers of the Weasley children and Granger. Already agreeing that the pair of them could not be trusted. That they were up to something. Pittance vows of best friends to protect poor Harry from the slimy trickster Slytherin scum.

Toby didn't feel the need to explain that he himself had been Hufflepuff. That dear old Mad-Eye himself had been a crafty snake and not a proud, puffed up Gryffindor.

They didn't get that privilege. Not just yet.

Draco tensed beside him as Ron's mouth opened to unleash an insult Toby did not understand. The blonde clenched his teeth, found it possible to straighten his posture even more, and refused to look elsewhere. "I will speak on our behalf," he said, uncaring that Moody was listening in. His false eye trained on the two men walking ahead of him down the narrow corridor. "You will speak when spoken to. I will not allow a show of weakness in front of these ignorant buffoons. And your mode of speech is quite difficult to follow. You speak nonsense and strange, foreign words. These would be used against us. Against me."

"Your wish is my command, little lord."

"And you will address me in the proper manner while in the unfortunate company of others."

Toby rolled his eyes. "No."

"You will."

"I won't. I only listen to you as a courtesy. It's your mum I've really got to obey."

Draco's expression did not change. Yet his tone took on a soft sense of sinister threat. "My mother would not place me into the care of a wild beast I would not be able to control. She will have chosen her wording very carefully, to not only bind you to herself and your vow, but to myself as well. I wonder what may happen should I give you a direct order and you refuse to comply."

"Not much. I'll get a bit itchy. Might think I've got fleas. A headache at best. I can write it all out for you later if you like, but you won't be finding no loopholes." Their banter ended as they were shown into the parlour where Dumbledore, Toby realized, had decided to make regular use of as a war room.

He reached out to gently squeeze Draco's shoulder before falling back, giving the impression that the younger wizard was in charge of him. It was all part of the charade. The boy wanted to play leader... Well now was his chance. As Dumbledore began his customary grandfatherly act for the benefit of both teens in the room, Toby took the opportunity to take in the faces of those around them. Eyes carefully observing the mannerisms and quirks. Mind deducing their personalities, strengths, and most of all their weaknesses.

So many were still so young. So many already maimed and scarred by battles they should never have been forced to fight. He turned his attention back to the headmaster and the conversation taking place before him when he felt he'd appeared distracted long enough.

"Mr. Malfoy... Draco," Dumbledore said. "Within these walls, and the halls of Hogwarts, you are safe. However, we cannot guarantee your safety outside these places. You have witnessed first hand the power Voldemort," and at the name of the Dark Lord, Toby noticed, many flinched. Including Draco. "holds over our world. Now that you have fled his grasp, he has used his influence to attack Azkaban and free your father and other loyal followers of his cause."

"And my mother?" Draco asked, fighting to keep the emotions from his voice. Fighting to remain strong despite the great loss he felt at having to leave his mother behind in the cruel hands of the Dark Lord. "What have your spies told you of her?" Grey eyes looked around, but would not turn to Toby. The boy noticed a few brief sympathetic looks, but little else was given away. "Is she alive?"

"She lives," Snape said calmly. "But daily she is placed under the _Cruciatis_."

Draco's jaw clenched. His shoulders tensed as he clenched his fists at his sides. He opened his mouth, but Toby spoke out of turn. "Has she broken?"

"No. Lady Malfoy has weakened, but she remains silent on her affairs. I have done all that I am able under the Dark Lord's watchful eye to ease her suffering. She will not speak, but I fear that death may help her to keep her silence."

Toby placed his hand back on Draco's shoulder; an attempt to soothe and comfort him. To the others, his face was cold. An unreadable and unbreakable mask of indifference. But Toby knew better. He knew how to decipher the silent language of his family...

And apparently so, too, did the owner of a set of emerald eyes dimmed only by rounded spectacles.

"Thank you, Professor," Draco said, his voice hard despite the devastation he felt inside. "Tobias," he said, moving smoothly to the next matter before the headmaster could take control of the conversations again. "Has informed me of your discussion. You have asked what we are unable to give. We cannot swear our allegiance and loyalty to your Order, nor can we swear it to you."

At this, voices raised in a cacophony of confusion and protest. Shouts of dishonesty and deception surrounded the two who had broken into their headquarters. Who had destroyed their wards of safety. Gone was the reminder that they had dutifully repaired them. That they had forsaken their claims of the fortunes of Sirius and the House of Black.

Now they were Death Eater spies. Caught and ready for execution.

However the chorus of fear and hate died down when Dumbledore raised his hands to quell the angry mob around them. Draco's eyes shut tightly, his head shaking as he ground his teeth a moment. At the same time, Dumbledore's expression darkened not with the finding of knowledge but in concentration and determination.

Toby growled, stepping forward and placing himself between the headmaster and his charge. A shock was needed. A powerful distraction to break the headmaster's concentration on Draco. To pull him back and release the boy's mind from his sight lest he see too much. And Toby knew exactly what it would take.

Growling, he turned his eyes to Snape, then to Harry. "Master, stop this! Can't you see it's hurting him?! His defenses are still weakened. He cannot prevent the ravaging of his own mind!" Voices raised around them again, this time in question and confusion as eyes turned from the pleading werewolf to Harry for answers.

"You KNOW how much it hurts! How much it hurt every time Severus used it on you!" Inwardly he was grinning. Outwardly, he played the part of the distressed pet. The worried companion. And now it was time for the finish. With watering silver eyes, ready to let tears flow, he let his voice carry nice and loudly. Once more proclaiming his new connection with the teen. "Please, Master, be merciful!"

At this, he heard a sigh of great relief coupled with a groan of exhaustion. Quickly he turned to face Draco, wrapping the boy protectively in his arms whether he liked it or not. Quiet murmurs of question fell from his lips. Asking what the headmaster had seen. Asking if he were alright. Asking if he needed to sit down. Needed to rest again. Needed a potion. Water. Anything and everything.

"What have you done?" the headmaster demanded not of them, but of Harry.

"I- I didn't do anything!"

"In the ward room, what was done?"

"I told you," Harry replied defensively. "They did the ritual just as professor Snape and yourself said it had to be done."

"What was said?"

At this, Harry had no answer. He hadn't told the headmaster because he didn't think it had to be said. He thought that if they made an oath to him, it was enough. It was like they had sworn to join the order.

"We made vows," Draco said as he pulled himself out of Toby's grasp. "I did not escape one power mad wizard to fall into the slavery of another."

Before anyone could protest Draco's declaration, Toby broke in. "And we are not foolish enough to believe we would be released without first taking precautions against us. To prevent us from damaging your great weapon against Voldemort."

"Our magic is bound to Potter. And there is nothing you can say or do to break this bond. Only he has the power to release our vows. But before you pressure your golden boy into doing something drastic, remember who and what he now has under his influence."

Murmurs. Toby looked around, then back at Dumbledore. His face may have been composed, and his body language now nonthreatening. But there was no trace of a twinkle in his blue eyes. Only a cold calculation. The bare skeleton of a strategy. Toby smirked.

Draco continued. "A son whom he can hold for ransom. A source of valuable information regarding the organization of the Dark Lord's followers and an insight into his methods. Two living, breathing tomes of information containing encyclopedic knowledge of the dark arts. Both Tobias and I have sworn, with our very blood, never to raise our wands to harm Potter. And to be subject to his will and whim alone."

"You see," Toby followed. "We cannot give to you what we have already given to Lord Potter. Not without sacrificing our lives to do so." The expression on his face was smug, but only one person was looking at him now. All other eyes were on Harry Potter. Toby's lips were slightly parted to show his tongue sliding over the slightly pronounced canine teeth in his mouth. A challenge given.

And with the start of a twinkle in ancient blue eyes, a challenge accepted.

**o0o**

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it, you just have to accept it."

"You should make him carry your books."

"Ronald-"

"What? He has to do whatever Harry says, right? So... Wait! We can finally make him eat slugs!"

Harry sat staring out the window of the compartment. The only other occupant who kept quiet had been Luna. Ginny and Ron were already plotting how best to demean Draco using his blood vow to Harry to do it. Hermione was attempting to quell their gleeful revenge fantasies as Neville occasionally tossed in his ideas from time to time.

"You're awfully quiet Harry," Luna said dreamily as she took Ron's place beside him after the boy had gotten up to excitedly act out what horrible thing he wanted Malfoy to do at Harry's command.

"Don't really like the conversation," Harry said with a shrug.

She hummed softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Luna."

She gave a gentle smile. "I thought you would be brooding over something else. You know..."

And he did know. Everyone had been so careful when mentioning his godfather. When talking about the Department of Mysteries. And yet their sympathies and platitudes did nothing to ease his nightmares and quell his racing doubts. His grief had transformed from the piercing heartbreak of losing the life he now knew he would never be allowed to have into a dull, numb ache of subdued despair. Into a consuming hatred for she who had taken his only glimmer of hope. A deep rooted resentment for those who drove him on in a war he never wanted. And yet... confusion had snuck into his silent rages.

The seeds of doubt both Sirius and Remus had started to sow had now found a new light towards which to grow. This... this was what confused him, and tempered his anger so that he has been able to continue on. Wear the mask of The Boy Who Lived, and disguise his anger and sorrow as mere nonchalance. As simple grief from which he could easily be led through.

"It still hurts," Harry said simply, giving a slight shrug. "I mean, I knew him for such a short time. We only had the brief visits."

"Not enough time to learn about him. Not enough time to let him get to know you."

"He knew me, well enough."

Luna shook her head, then brushed back the platinum hair that fell into her eyes. "No one really does, Harry. No one really does," she said quietly so that only Harry would hear her. Then, she held up her old issue of the Quibbler and returned to her reading.

Harry stared at the upside down newspaper before blinking curiously. For once, Luna had been very straightforward and clear.

He stood, causing his friends to all turn to him, breaking the excitement and enthusiasm with which Ron and Ginny plotted and Hermione and Neville tried to protest. Well, protest a little. "Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm just going to get a little air."

"Harry," Hermione started, but he did not let her finish. He knew what she was going to say before he'd crossed the small compartment.

What he really needed was to be left alone. Alone he didn't have to think. He didn't have to pretend for his friends. He could, for once, just be Harry.

**o0o**

Draco was fidgeting. For the first time since his escape, he had been left alone. Not really alone... he knew there were wards in place to keep an eye on him. But Toby had been made to leave Number 12 before him. To assume his cover that Dumbledore had prepared for him at Hogwarts.

He had started the train ride in the same manner in which he always had. Sitting in the accustomed Slytherin car. Having schooled his features and emotions to give nothing away. Had chosen his words carefully when speaking with his close friends... some of whom he knew to be children of the Inner Circle.

Draco had been grateful when his Prefect duties had called him away from the car. It had given him the perfect excuse to hide himself away in a compartment to take his potions.

Finally, as the pain from the Skele-gro had subsided, he had gotten a little peace. Only to have it stolen when the door had opened and startled him.

"Sorry," said the emotionless voice from the empty face looking back at him. "I thought this one was vacant."

"Clearly Potter it isn't," Draco snapped, the old bite to his voice when he had always addressed the other boy.

Harry stepped back to close the door, when Draco sighed. "Fine... But stay quiet. And the first red haired Weasel I see..." He let the warning hang in the air as Harry nodded his understanding. After checking to ensure the corridor was empty, Harry stepped in and closed the door. Drawing the blind down so that none could look in to see the two enemies sitting together.

They passed the remainder of the train ride in a mutual silence. Harry thankful that Malfoy did not try to speak with him. And Draco thankful that Potter demanded no answers.

**o0o**

Toby picked at the hems of his robe sleeves. He hadn't worn one of these silly things in years. Even then, they had been much more stylish. Much more modern. Much more... breathable.

"Stop your fidgeting boy," said an elderly portrait to the side of the table. "It is most unbecoming of an apprentice."

"I'm no apprentice mate. I'm a fully qualified potions master, investigative journalist, and world renown historian and don't you forget it you wrinkled old windbag! And I bloody hate these stuffy old curtains!" He flapped his arms to show off the robes of which he spoke.

"And you will address me in the proper manner young man. I am a lady."

"You're a painting on the ruddy wall is what you are. I'll call you whatever I bloody well feel like."

"Language. This is an institution for children."

"I'll put you in an institution..." Toby grumbled under his breath as he let his arms drop to his sides. It was kind of Professor McGonogall to pay for his teaching robes, as well as his day to day wear and personal necessities. But he resented the fact he had not been consulted on what his tastes and preferences were.

Glancing to the wall where his transfigured clock had been hung, he heaved a great sigh, allowed his face to smooth out into the patented Malfoy Mask he had perfected at age three, and left his suite.

The portrait swung closed behind him, her radiant black and gold dress fading into the stonework as the painting disappeared. No doubt she had moved to another location in the castle, causing him the need to hunt her down in order to simply retire for the night.

No matter.

Straightening his collar, he put one foot before the other and started the long walk down towards the great hall. There was a feast to be held and students to be sorted.

Toby had always wondered what it would be like to watch the song and dance from the head table.

**o0o**

"I don't see Snape," Ginny whispered. "Where is he?"

"Maybe he finally got sacked," Ron answered hopefully.

"He couldn't have been let go," Hermione said. "He is a member of the Order, and Professor Dumbledore would want to keep him close."

"I still don't trust him," Ron said. "And I really hope that werewolf isn't going to be teaching anything. He scares the willies out of me."

Harry looked up at the mention of the werewolf. Green eyes scanned the professors' table for the man. Sure enough there he was, sitting beside Professor Slughorn.

"Do you think he's the new DADA professor? He has never denied that he is a dark wizard, and Harry said he can't harm him, so maybe-"

"Not unless Malfoy says he can," Ginny interrupted.

"No, because Malfoy can't harm him either. Mum said he has to obey Malfoy, and Malfoy has to obey everything Harry says."

Hermione sighed. "Ron, it's not like that. Remember that oath your brothers had to take? Vows to the Order? That's what Malfoy and that man did. Only they made their oaths to Harry instead."

"Why do that? I mean, it's totally mental!"

Harry cast his gaze over the table again, yet still there was no sign of Snape as yet. Only a vacant chair. He glanced over to the Slytherin table and spotted Draco quickly with the ease of one who has done such every day for years. Watching. Waiting for any sign of-

What?

Now the most they could do was argue. Shout and scrap and nothing more. Not since Draco had chained his werewolf and bound his magic to, of all people, the Gryffindor golden boy.

He averted his eyes when he realized Draco was staring back at him. Just in time to see Professor McGonogall place the Sorting Hat out on the stool.

The great hall fell to an excited hum as students sat in anticipation of what song the hat would devise this year. What riddle would it impart to them of the coming terms.

But this year... This year there was no song. For when the sorting hat opened the seam of its mouth, it hummed in foreboding concentration. Then it gave a rather odd, rather disconcerting and almost lyrical warning.

 

> _"Friend or foe you'll know for naught_  
>  _until creatures found are proper taught._  
>  _Time for fear and sadness passed._  
>  _The enemy has an army massed._  
>  _Shadows long and moons rise high;_  
>  _Strength alone cannot get by._  
>  _A promise shared will show the way;  
> _ _And secrets kept will light the day._
> 
> _"Beware ye children of fire's light,_  
>  _For you must remember the exile's flight._  
>  _From Gryffindor comes your strength of arms;_  
>  _And by Slytherin gain the cunning mind;_  
>  _Yet within Ravenclaw all answers reside.  
> _ _Ah but careful now such a triad be  
> _ _For all they do Badger sees."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Z and I apologize if this chapter seemed disjointed or choppy at all. It was written between 2 weddings, a major move, a job, and a sick beta who was replaced with a back-up who was a bit lazy. So, if there's errors, please let us know because Malady isn't exactly the greatest at catching those things. Alas, she was all we had on hand.


	8. 7. Fatal

"That doesn't even make sense!" shouted a Ravenclaw boy while the girl beside him gave a knowing smile amidst the chaos. It seemed she alone understood the message.

Then again, she did have radish earrings on, so it could very well have just been that she was in her own world and hadn't a clue what was actually going on.

The great hall was silenced only when the deputy headmistress raised her arms and called for such, announcing that the sorting was to begin.

Tobias watched first the student body's reaction. Seeking out certain faces in the chaos before the silence fell for sorting. Troubled expressions on the faces of Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Two obviously trying to figure out the riddle while the third watching another across the hall. His gaze turned then to Draco. Forced composure. His posture far too severe to be comfortable. He was trying his best to hold it together. From this distance, it was obvious the dragon did not trust the snakes around him.

So engrossed in watching Draco, then the students in general, Toby had not noticed when the sorting had ended and the headmaster had risen to give his customary speech. So intent on his observations was he that when Professor Slughorn's name was announced for the new Potions Master post, he'd nearly missed his own announcement of Apprentice.

He'd risen quickly beside Slughorn, and after a brief second of uncertainty decided to play his role in earnest. Appearing anxious and nervous and as if he wanted to throw up. Just as quickly, he seated himself with silent chastisement of having not paid enough attention. Once he was settled again, he stole a glance towards what he had expected to be an empty chair just as Professor Snape glowered down from the table at the student body.

He had finally been given his coveted position. It was with a heavy heart Toby gave the man a small nod as he sat down. For he knew this moment in time sealed his fate and marked his doom.

None who took the cursed position lasted beyond a year.

**o0o**

"Okay. Potions apprentice, I didn't expect. He's a dark wizard, it would make sense if he was-"

"Just give it a rest 'Mione. Look, we only have to deal with Snape one more year, then he's out! THAT'S what we should be talking about!" Ron exclaimed as he threw himself into his favorite armchair by the common room's fireplace. "This is the greatest news I've ever heard!"

"Okay, I can see your point. But think about this from the academic point of view. How qualified is this Tobias Black to be helping teach something as complex as potions? Does he have any real training? And as a dark wizard, is it wise to allow him to take an active part in our education? Or to let him near volatile ingredients that can be put to nefarious ends?"

"Just give it a rest already!" Ron protested, not wanting to think beyond the moment he realized Severus Snape was doomed to disappear after this year. One way or another. "Can't we just, for once, sit here and not analyze anything. Not talk about who is trying to kill us, poison us, or do some other horrible and terrible deed to us? Just tonight, please?"

Harry listened to this exchange, but offered little in support for either side. They would, he knew, need to figure out for themselves how to negotiate one another. Even he could see that much of their bickering, as pointless as it usually was, masked the fact that his best friends were both attempting to withhold their feelings. And Harry himself was, admittedly, dense when it came to such matters as relationships beyond the platonic.

Case in point, the fifth year who had decided that her place was beside him on the two seater between the chairs situated before the fireplace. A girl he saw only as a sister, a friend. And yet she sat there, tossing in her opinions on her brother's matters while holding Harry's hand in her own.

His palm itched from the sweat. And when he glanced down at them, their hands entwined on the cushion between their bodies, he felt... nothing. Rather, he did not feel what he knew he was expected to feel. That sense of comfort and love that young couples get from such a simple touch. No; instead his hand was sweaty, his palm itched, and her fingers were just a little too tightly wrapped around his own. It felt... awkward. Uncomfortable.

The fact that he realized he felt anything at all was surprisingly pleasant. He had feared that, in his grief, he had completely shut himself off from such things. So, as his friends carried on, now once again trying to decipher what the sorting hat must have meant, Harry started to examine his hand in Ginny's. And he started listing, silently in his thoughts, why her hand should most certainly not be there.

**o0o**

"I don't like it. I don't like it one bit."

"Too bad. It's the way it has to be," Toby said, hours after the feast. Hours after Draco had snuck back out of the Slytherin dungeon. "It's not my call, mate."

"You are supposed to be here to protect me! How can you do that if I'm in the dungeon and you're on the top floor of the castle?!"

"Well," Toby said, rubbing the back of his neck. "See, that's not my fault either. One, I'm an apprentice, not a student, so I can't stay in the dorms. Two, I'm a werewolf with needs. Meaning I have need of a secure place to transform so that no one comes to harm. Third, I have no bloody idea where this room really is. It just sort of pops up. Why, right now we might be in the kitchens. Or Dumbledore's private bath. Or even on the wall behind your own bed."

"What?"

He shrugged. "Look kid, I don't know how or why it works. I just know that it does. So... If you need to, and you can find my room, hide out in here if you like. Just... uh... Don't tell anyone. The last thing I need is people I don't know bursting in a bit closer to the full moon, got it?"

**o0o**

The first week of classes went by with little incident. Draco often made late night visits to Toby's rooms, the pair of them discussing how exactly Draco could locate the portrait door of Toby's rooms with little effort, yet still have it be concealed to all others.

It was not until the first month had passed that Toby discovered Draco had been keeping information from him. Had kept secret the true state of affairs for him in the Slytherin dormitory.

Tobias had been sent on a fool's errand in the forbidden forest, gathering plants for Slughorn, when news came to him of Draco's plight...

A sharp, searing pain in his side had been the only indication he'd received of Draco's distress. Forgetting his task, consumed by his sense of duty and spurred on by his Vow to the Lady Malfoy, Tobias ran full pelt back to the castle, having to hold his side the entire time.

By the time he had reached the hallway on which the infirmary was housed, he could hardly breathe. His vision had blurred and he could not close the distance as his heart beat wildly. Vainly attempting to keep the blood pumping in a body that was struggling to shut down. Every breath became painful. Every step heavier and heavier until finally he could no longer go on. A mere 20 feet away from the infirmary, Draco's scent becoming stronger with every inch closer he managed to push along the floor before finally he collapsed. The world growing dark as his mind began to drift into the senseless nothingness.

**o0o**

The world around him was loud. The smells were so strong he could not discern one from another. Just a mass of exotic scents his mind could not place. And a hum. A low, persistent hum he could not place nor recognize.

_"Draco!"_

He turned around, realizing that he was standing. His head was pounding. His vision blurry.

_"Draco! Follow my voice!"_

"Who-"

 _ **"FOLLOW MY VOICE!"**_ was the repeated booming answer.

Quickly Draco moved, stumbling across this foreign world that blurred at the edges. There, a door. A door was standing open, with blissful darkness behind it. He moved toward it, jumping at the sound of voices shouting behind him. Beside him. All around him. Angry, excited, joyful, despairing.

 _"Come, hurry!"_ that voice beckoned him again, drawing his attention away from the over-stimulation. There, a figure silhouetted in the doorway.

He broke into a run, tripping but not completely falling. He looked over his shoulder to see a body sprawled across the ground. Clad in auror robes and blood... so much blood... Three figures kneeling over it. All three heads covered in dirty blond. Two sets of orange auror robes, and another clad in such strange clothes. Like he had seen on Tobias during their escape from the Manor...

A hand grabbed him, jerking him backwards. He crashed into a wall, cold and hard as stone, as the door was slammed shut. A breathless Tobias stood, hand resting on the plain white door. "Thank heavens I found you..."

"What- who- where-"

"Long story, no time. You have to wake up."

"I don't understand. What WAS that? Who were those people?!"

"Draco there isn't time."

"Answer me!"

"I will. I promise, I'll tell you anything you wish to know. But right now, you have to wake up. If you don't wake up, you'll die. You'll die, and so will I." As he spoke frantically, he crossed the corridor to stand over Draco, the man's tall form looming over him in a panic. "Draco, you've been injured. I can't help you unless you wake the fuck up!" His hand rose and came down, slapping Draco sharply across the face. Then again.

And the world went white.

**o0o**

"He's waking up! Fetch Madame Pomfrey!"

Draco groaned groggily and tried to sit up, only to have a hand hold him firmly in place.

"Lie still, Draco."

It was only then Draco realized who it was standing over him. It was not Tobias as he had initially thought. It was his godfather... "Where's-"

"Nearby. Useless dog. Could not even properly protect-"

"What happened, professor?" Draco asked, cutting him off before he could continue on a tirade. "Why am I in the infirmary?"

"You were stabbed, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco looked down the bed to see Professor Dumbledore standing at the end. His blue eyes were not twinkling. The boy was glad for it. Only true concern showed in the old man's face - and yet Draco could not trust even that about the man.

"It seems that word has circulated among your housemates that you have left Lord Voldemort's service."

"You say that so lightly!" Snape hissed angrily. "One of my students has been grievously injured and you're concerned with idle gossip! Are you mad as well as old?"

"Not so loud," groaned a voice nearby. "My poor head can't take it."

Snape whirled around to glare at Tobias in the next bed. "And where were you, Mr. Black? You are meant to be protecting Draco Malfoy are you not? So how, pray tell, did this escape your notice?!"

Toby winced as Snape raised his voice in frustration. But he knew Snape's tone and reactions were rooted in deep concern for his godson. "Out in the forest getting Sluggy's damned plants. I came as soon as I knew he's been-"

"And how did you discover this?!"

"Like I said to Dumbles, my wards and my Vow alerted me to the danger. I could not reach him quick enough to intervene, as I was too fucking far away in the fucking forest!" He winced again at the volume of his own voice. His words were a lie, of course. The Vow held no sway over him in these matters. And he did not have wards placed on Draco.

He dare not allude to the true purpose. He dare not let it be known that Draco's brush with death had nearly undone the future. Had nearly deleted him from existence.

Draco coughed and drew attention back to him.

"Where the devil is Poppy?" Dumbledore said, looking around the infirmary. The medi-witch was nowhere in sight. "Minerva should be back by now with-"

Toby groaned as he sat up, despite having been told to stay in the bed. Swinging his feet around to the floor, he leaned over to grasp his wand, which had been taken and set on the stand beside the bed. "Look," he said, tucking the wand up the sleeve of his robes, back where it belonged. "We have to take this attack at face value. I cannot be moved to the Slytherin dorms, not that Professor Snape would allow me to."

"It would not be advisable, given your... condition," Snape agreed reluctantly. He was no fool - that much was clear. He knew the value of Narcissa Malfoy's trust. She was not one to give it freely. Yet... She chose to trust a filthy, disgusting beast to protect her son. And if he knew without a doubt that the other students in his house would be safe every month... he would be willing to make room for him, if only for Draco's sake.

"So what do you propose?" Dumbledore asked.

The two men were silent.

Draco tried to push up onto his elbows, but Snape reached down and held him still. "Place me into a private room. One only Tobias, Professor Snape, and yourself may enter."

"Out of the question," Snape said.

Toby smirked. "Place him with me," he said. "I will better be able to protect him, and should the need arise, hide him from sight. None know where my rooms are, and they reappear in many different places. The lions can't reach him and the junior Death Eaters won't know where to look."

Dumbledore seemed to consider this. "I would like to make one addendum if I may."

"By all means," Toby said, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture with his palms facing up. "It is, after all, your right as the headmaster."

"Your rooms," Dumbledore said, and as he spoke Snape watched him closely. Years of experience told him that the headmaster was taking the opportunity to gain influence over the werewolf. Judging by the younger wizard's expression, he too knew what to expect. "They will require expansion. I will personally oversee the addition of the space for young Draco, and place additional security for his safety."

"But of course, sir. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Draco groaned. Dumbledore opened his mouth to say more, but had been cut off by the arrival of Professor McGonogall and Madame Pomfrey. So instead... "We will discuss this at length. Until then, Severus will conduct the transfer of Mr. Malfoy's belongings to your suite in addition to devising appropriate punishments for the perpetrators of this heinous act."

Toby gave a nod of assent. Snape, curiously, watched him as he wondered what sort of game the two men were trying to play against one another.

**o0o**

"Did you hear what happened to Malfoy?" Ginny asked excitedly as she sat down between Harry and Seamus.

"Ferret was stabbed in the back by his own kind. Good riddance, I say," Ron managed after swallowing a mouthful of mince pie.

Hermione jabbed him sharply with her elbow. "Ronald!"

"That's a terrible thing to say. He could have been killed!"

"So? He's- He's _MALFOY_! Just because he doesn't have a mark doesn't mean he's not one of them!"

Harry stared across the table at his best friend, Ron's continued ravings distracting him from the youngest Weasley's attentions. "This is exactly the kind of shite we're fighting to stop!" he shouted amongst Ron's tangent, causing Lavender and her group of gossiping girls to look their way, quietly whispering to one another. The gaggle hoping for some juicy gossip.

Hermione chimed in her agreement. "Ron, we know you don't like him, but you can't really mean all of that."

"Hermione's right. He's awful, but he's just a kid. Like us. You know just as well as I do what's expected of him. He's only been doing what he was taught. With the sort of father he has, he did what he had to do to keep from getting in trouble," Neville said.

To hear Neville defending Draco, and agreeing with Hermione, gave him cause to wonder just what exactly it was that had caused such strong and blind bitterness between the two families. Ron and Malfoy never got along, true, but to carry on as he was about Draco's brush with death? It was ridiculous. Especially when Ron knew why Draco had sought out the order for help. Why he had to run from his own house.

"His childhood is no excuse for the things he's done," Hermione said, and Ron agreed. Neville's eyes took a haunted look. It wasn't there for long, but enough that Harry had noticed.

"Hermione," Neville said once it had passed. "There are just some things about pure-blood lineage you just cannot comprehend. It's not like you can just pick up a book on the subject and read about it. It's a cultural issue."

With a heated look to Ron, Neville stood from the table, gathering up his books to head off early for their classes.

Ron shrugged and shoved another slice of toast into his mouth with Hermione beside him, mumbling about Neville's comment. Harry put on his best face and gave them a nod. "I'll go check on Neville. See what that was all about," he said, pulling his hand away from where Ginny had been holding it. Quickly he finished off his pumpkin juice and got to his feet. "I'll see you guys in class."

Hurriedly, he left the great hall, wanting to follow Neville... but there had been another matter on his mind which took him the other direction. Towards the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking around guys. We know it's taken a while between jobs, computers, and schedules.  
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and we hope to get another one cranked out by the end of the month.


	9. 8. Worthless

Harry hadn't known what to expect when he entered the infirmary. Hiding beneath his invisibility cloak, he moved carefully and as quietly as he could through the halls. Keeping out of sight and notice of any who crossed his path. The last thing he needed was for word to get back to Ron that he'd gone to see how Malfoy was doing.

He waited outside the infirmary for a few minutes, waiting for an opportunity to slip inside. It came just as Professor Snape was storming out, his robes billowing out to give him a bat-like appearance. With the ease of experience he quickly slipped through the door as it closed behind the professor.

Harry searched the beds as he passed them, looking for Draco as he did.

"Hey there kiddo."

His head snapped to the left where, staring right back at him, sat the potions apprentice Mr. Black. Yet he knew he was hidden from view. Not even his shoes could be seen.

The man smiled. "Was wondering when you'd show up. Or not show, as the case is."

He didn't make a sound, instead, turning his head this way and that for any sign of Draco. All he saw was a mussed bed with a wet looking red patch. At this, he could not help but gasp. "Malfoy!"

"In the loo," the man said. "Well, that and a bath. Wouldn't let anyone give him a sponge bath, that one. You can wait around if you like. But take off that silly cloak. I can't see your face and I'd rather not look crazier than I actually am."

"I'd rather not," Harry replied at last. "Better this way."

"Suit yourself," he said, looking away from him. But not before Harry saw his nostrils flare as he took in a deep breath. Without looking towards the other bed, he lifted his hand, giving a flick of a few fingers and the red patch faded slowly to nothing. Just as a door on the far side of the infirmary opened.

Madame Pomfrey supported Draco's weight as they came slowly together down the line.

"Why isn't she using magic on him?" Harry whispered, turning his attention back to the man on the bed. "She shouldn't be making him walk after what's happened to him."

Toby's face softened. An expression of true and sincere compassion. "Because it hurts him. He must get through this the muggle way."

"But that could kill him."

"Which is exactly why we must be especially vigilant in our guard, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth to speak more, but silenced himself as Draco was eased onto his bed. The tunic he wore was twice as large as it needed to be for his frame. Hanging off him as if he were a small child trying on his father's clothes. His skin had taken that sallow, sickly color once again. Beneath his haunted gray eyes the dark circles of exhaustion and sickness.

"How is he?"

"He," Draco said in a weak attempt at a superior tone, "will live a little longer now that he's clean."

"Mr. Malfoy, you must maintain a calm and peaceful demeanor in order to keep your body relaxed and your wound from reopening."

"I'll take good care of him," Tobias said. "After all, I was raised by muggles. I know how to handle these things."

"I highly doubt you have been stabbed in the side, Mr. Black."

"No... But I've been shot, maimed, clawed by a rather nasty dragon, and fallen on my own garden shears. Nearly all of which had been dealt with the muggle way."

Madame Pomfrey tutted and fussed over Draco a while longer before giving Tobias a warning look before returning to her office.

Draco waited for her to leave before allowing himself to show his discomfort. Oblivious to Potter's presence, of course. "A lot of good it is having my own werewolf if he proves to be absolutely worthless."

"You're just saying that out of misery. You'll feel better about it after you're back on your feet."

"I never should have listened to you. I should have stayed in my home. Stayed with mother and never come here."

"Then your mother's sacrifices would mean nothing," Tobias said simply, staring away from both him and Harry. "I have seen things done to her that would make even Albus Dumbledore weep in shame. And yet she kept fighting. Kept letting them do such terrible things to her... so that you would be left untouched. Unviolated by the beasts who begged to be allowed to use you."

At this Harry shuddered. He didn't know what Mrs. Malfoy had gone through at the hands of Voldemort. But the way Tobias spoke, the words he used, told Harry more than any explanation could have.

"I spent many a morning patching your good mother up. Nursing her back to health just so they could do it all over again. And for what? For a child who would rather be the Dark Lord's personal pet than face stupid, untalented, and frankly piss poor would be assassins. Yes, I wasn't there. That wasn't my fault either. But you can be damn certain that I won't fail again."

Harry waited for Draco to respond, but no... The boy fell into a fitful slumber halfway through the older wizard's rantings. The man smiled softly. Fondly, then beckoned Harry to him.

Harry moved, and he could see Toby's nostrils flare again before the man looked directly at him once more. "M'Lord, I ask that you not share what you have seen. If word reached the ears of his enemies, he cannot defend himself at this current time. If you must speak to a Slytherin, speak with Blaise Zabini."

"Zabini?" Harry whispered, glancing at the sleeping Draco. "He's one of Them."

"No, he isn't. He's the only one who knows the true loyalties in the Slytherin house. Countess Zabini is a strong ally to have. Her son is the best hope you have here at Hogwarts to get the truth of matters. The Zabinis hold no love for Tom Riddle, nor his followers. Ask Longbottom if you'd like." He settled back against the pillows with a grunt and a sigh before closing his eyes. "Now go. You're late for classes and I need my sleep."

**o0o**

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being late, Mr. Potter," McGonogall said tersely when she caught Harry trying to sneak into the classroom. Instead of going for the empty seat in the back he had originally planned on, he moved closer to the front of the room and slid down next to Hermione and Ron. When the attention was no longer on himself, he sighed in relief.

"Where were you?" Hermione whispered. "Neville said he hadn't seen you. What-"

"Professor Dumbledore needed to see me. About the private lessons."

"Has he told you what you'll be learning?"

He shook his head seconds before Professor McGonogall turned her attention back to them, making a little tutting noise in warning. Harry didn't even need to ask to borrow her notes later.

**o0o**

It was a month before Harry learned Draco had been released from the infirmary. Gossip told him he hadn't been seen in the Slytherin dungeon - and that he had been seen taking different paths each day. He'd checked his map, but by the time he reached the places where Draco would disappear from it, he found nothing. A few times he thought the other boy had gone into the Room of Requirement... only to learn that no, the room was not in use.

Often he would notice small groups, three to five students on average, following Draco on the map before the boy disappeared, while the others would stop. Pace around and then disperse. Clearly they were following him. Trying to discover his secret.

Outside of classes, he noticed Mr. Black was never far from Draco. His duties as apprentice took him all over the castle. Sometimes into the forbidden forest, but never for long. And soon enough he would show on the map again under another name... But it was clear, after Harry had attempted to follow Draco himself a few times, who that strange name belonged to.

Harry had finally come up with a plan to corner Draco, to find out what was going on. What he was up to and what had really happened to injure him - but Ron had other plans.

"Come on Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "It's been over a month and you still haven't held Quidditch trials!"

"I told-"

"You're the Captain! You have to decide who gets in."

"Katie can-"

"Harry you LOVE Quidditch!"

"I know!" Harry snapped in frustration, causing others to look their way in the common room. "Look. I've got a lot on my mind right now, and I..."

"You've got to stop worrying about Malfoy," Ginny said from behind his chair, causing him to jump from his seat and turn quickly, eyes wide before he realized it was only her. "He's not your problem anymore. Honestly Harry-"

"Talk to Katie. She'll set something up. I just..." He raked a hand through his hair with a groan and a sigh. "I'm going to bed."

"It's only seven!" Ron protested to Harry's retreating back.

"Then I'm going to study!" Harry snapped back before stomping up the stairs.

From the far side of the room, Neville looked up from his homework with a frown. Looking from Ron to the stairs leading up to the boy's dormitory. Tomorrow, he decided, he would find a way to get Harry alone to talk.

**o0o**

Draco let his mask fall the moment he was safely in the portrait hole. The first few days of returning to these new rooms he had attempted to maintain the appearance that everything was fine. And Tobias had allowed him to try. Now... He knew there was no hiding his emotions from a man who could read his every thought in his body language. In his face. In his voice and his eyes.

Some days Draco returned to find meals waiting for him. Clear liquids at first, then the softer foods. Or solid food cut into smaller pieces for him to manage. All of it charmed to keep warm. To keep cool. To keep from spoiling and going foul. Those were the days he knew his guardian would not return from his fools errands until late that night.

Draco always knew the man had returned when he would wake the next morning to find fresh bandages on his side and a cup of hot tea waiting for him on his nightstand. Made exactly the way he liked it.

**o0o**

Tobias stalked down the hall, nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of the traitors. He had waited... Waited until closer to the full moon. Closer to the time when his affliction would show itself more prominently.

This was an intelligence gathering mission. He had smelled them on Draco their enter stay in the infirmary. He had smelled them in the halls during the day. Following Draco but unable to single them out from the crowds.

But oh he had followed them this time. Knew they were Slytherin. Knew they were cunning and devious little snakes... But he was a wolf. A predator. A beast. And he would have his revenge for what they had not only done to Draco, but nearly done to himself as well.

So he waited. He smelled and dissected each scent. Deduced it down to its bare components before finally... Finally he had discovered who among the snakes it had been.

And now he tracked them through the castle late at night. Always losing their scent on the seventh floor.

This night, he waited. Knew his eyesight would be keenest in the dark. Knew his senses were at their height before his transformation the very next night...

The wooden door of the come and go room creaked open. And Tobias crouched further down in the darkness, shielded by both shadow and statuary. Silver eyes narrowed when he saw her. And he knew then what he was witnessing. The beginning of more than just the consequences of Draco's defection... This was the beginning of Pansy Parkinson's descent into the madness that would lead to associations with James Moriarty so many years from now.

Tobias waited until she had passed, then disappeared into the bowels of the castle in search of his own rooms, knowing that he could not interfere in her fate. Not without changing his own.

When he returned to his and Draco's now shared rooms, he poked his head into the boy's room. Safe and sound. He would order one of the house elves to see to his bandages and set out a fresh cup of tea for him in the morning.

**o0o**

Draco had never realized how much he looked forward to the Hogsmeade trips until he was informed that due to his injury, as well as the current state of general mistrust in his own house, he would not be allowed to make the visit to the nearby town.

Sitting in his shared rooms, he found himself not pouting, but enraged. He had yet to hear of who exactly had done this to him. Of anyone getting what was coming to them for their crimes against him. Unable to go anywhere in the castle without being subjected to Potter's pity. His guardian's ever present shadow in his wake.

So he busied himself with his homework. With practicing his spells, finding it difficult to focus due to the stinging sensation that burned through him with each attempt. It did not deter him, however, from trying to vent out his anger. The table in the center of his and Toby's sitting room had become the target of his frustration. Hit with hex after hex that left it scarred and burned. And left him drained and in pain.

Despite this, he continued, shouting angrily.

His life was ruined. His family broken. His power taken from him. Everything had fallen apart.

"Why!" he screamed, his voice strained with anguish as he sent another hex flying, this time at the wall. "Why!"

He crumbled to his knees, unable to stand any longer. Unable to feel anything but the pain and the rage coursing through him like fiendfyre. Unstoppable. Unchangeable.

"Because they fear you."

He turned his head, and stared through watery gray eyes at the man leaning against the wall at the entrance. "They fear what you know. They fear what you will do. They fear what you will become."

"A worthless, powerless child."

"They use muggle means to stop you, knowing they could never match your power. They attack from behind because they know they would never live through a confrontation to your face. They are mere snakes, afraid to challenge a dragon."

"I am no dragon," Draco replied, looking away from the man who so casually spoke of his misfortune. "I've lost everything."

He heard the footsteps approach. Slow. Deliberate. Measured. Then, they stopped beside him. Draco refused to look up. He could not bear the shame of having his weakness seen again.

After a long silence, and the feeling of eyes watching him, scrutinizing him, did he hear him speak again.

"My parents once told me a story. Of a powerful man. A brilliant, psychotic, cowardly man. A man who took everything from my father. His work. His hope. His pride. His heart. He burned the very soul out of my father. But there was one thing he could not take from him." He felt a hand gently brush his hair before resting on his head. "His life. As long as there is breath in your lungs and blood in your veins, you will have everything that you need. Everything that you require to get your revenge."

"They should have let me die."

"Why? To give your enemies the satisfaction of knowing their cowardice has rewarded them? Had you died, the slaves that did this to you would have suffered far worse than they could endure. The great and noble heir of the house of Malfoy, killed by a couple of children before the Dark Lord can exact his revenge... No. You spite them by living. And that spite will breed resentment. Resentment breeds recklessness. Recklessness makes them vulnerable. Paranoid. And when they are at their most vulnerable, that is when we will strike them down. One by one, they will know what it feels like to have everything stripped away. Piece by piece. Until they know the wrath of the dragon they have just unleashed."

At last, Draco looked up at him. In the calm mask he saw only rage. In the silver eyes only cold calculation. "Rest yourself now, little lord. Tomorrow we will begin."

**o0o**

Together they walked along the dreary streets of Hogsmeade. Bundled against the dreadful wind and rain. Harry walked between the girls, Ginny and Hermione, thankful that for once the conversation had not fallen to speculations of Malfoy's condition or fate. Instead, the girls were trying to work through the sorting hat's ominous opening speech.

"Okay, I understand the part about fear and sadness. We cannot dwell on the past, not while Voldemort is gaining followers to his cause," Hermione said. "And it's understandable that we can't rely purely on strength. I mean, this is a magic war. Physical strength has nothing to do with it. We have to rely on skill, on strategy."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "I think it has to do with the werewolf," she said, her voice low so that no one would overhear her mentioning Mr. Black's secret. "He is a creature. And the hat mentioned that bit about the moon. That's a solid connection... are we meant to keep his secret? But if he's the creature mentioned, then he'll be found out. It said so right in the beginning."

Hermione tapped her scarf covered chin with a finger in thought as they passed the boarded up joke shop. Behind her she heard Ron groan in disappointment. "Perhaps we should focus on the second half of the speech. Children of Fire's Light. I think it might mean us. We're the only children linked to the Order." She lowered her voice when she spoke of the Order, like Ginny afraid of the wrong ears overhearing. "We have to remember the importance of Malfoy's sudden change of sides."

"How do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"He's exiled from his own world. From his family, his home. Everything. Who else could it possibly mean?" Harry chimed in, having been listening to the pair discuss the sorting hat's words and possible meanings. "His defection is important. Professor Dumbledore thinks he can help us. Tell us what it's like on the inside. Unlike Snape, he has no reason to lie about it. He can't go back. Even if he could, he'd be killed."

Hermione nodded as they made their way towards Honeydukes. "If anything, he's got more reason than the rest of us to be afraid. His own house is out to get him."

Ginny gave a sigh, then gave her agreement. She knew Hermione and Harry were right... But it was so hard to think of Malfoy as anything but the malicious, spoiled pure-blood brat he had always been. To think of him now as a victim of his own kind... It was to her mind bizarre.

Harry dropped behind the two girls when they reached the sweet shop, giving Ron a gentle push against the arm. "Hey," he said, trying to breach the awkwardness that had settled between them since news of Malfoy's near death had first come to light. "Sorry," he said. "About, you know."

Ron gave a half halfhearted smile. "I know," he replied. "You can't handle stress real well. Short temper. Think I'd remember that from fourth year." He gave a small laugh.

"Yeah. Thanks for, you know, not hounding Malfoy lately."

"Look mate, I still don't trust him. But you know I don't really want him to be-"

"I know." Harry gave a nod and clapped his friend on the shoulder with a grin. "Are we alright?"

"Of course," Ron replied. "Now come on, I heard they've got those new deluxe sugar quills. They'll take a month to eat through!"

The two boys went inside, both feeling a little less awkward and a lot less tense than they had in a while.

**o0o**

Draco rose to the sound of a violin. A violin that sounded like it was being murdered.

He rose from bed quickly, biting his lip to keep from shouting out at the mistake after the exertion he had put himself through the day before. Pulling on a bathrobe he kept near the bed, he padded out into the sitting room. "What in the name of Salazar are you doing?!"

The noise, for that is all it truly was, abruptly stopped. When it did, Draco sighed in relief. Only then did he notice his companion was most certainly under-dressed. Wearing only a pair of trousers low on his hips, he was standing in the sitting room with violin in one hand and the bow in the other. His back, covered in a tracery of thin white scars overlaid a larger, older set of what must have been rather deep gouge marks that extended from his left shoulder-blade and down around his hip, was facing him.

"My apologies, little lord," he said, not looking at Draco. He laid the instrument down, and the bow beside it. Both items reverted to their original forms of a cup and a book when he waved a hand over them. "It helps me to think."

"Why in the bloody hell would you make such atrocious racket?!" Draco snapped, realizing only after he'd said it that the words he'd subconsciously chosen were more frequently spoken from the werewolf's lips.

"I said, it helps me to think." He turned around at last to face Draco, and the teen saw the rest of the larger scars. Curling towards Toby's stomach. And there, at his shoulder...

Toby's expression softened briefly as he followed Draco's gaze. He touched a hand to the shoulder where he had the sigil of Lord Voldemort burned into his flesh. He did not bear the Dark Mark, that much had been quite true. But he had been branded, like cattle, with the coat of arms of the house of Gaunt. The puckered, raised flesh had healed improperly, having been burned with an item that had been resistant to magic... just as the knife used on Draco had been.

"I... usually keep a glamour up," he said. "But I wanted you to see the extent of the Dark Lord's malice. Some of these I came by naturally in my old life. The large claw marks... I was eighteen and attacked in Nocturne Alley. The hole here, in my hip," he said, gesturing to his right hip where another old scar, quite distinct in its spiral shape, sat hideously on his tanned skin. "Is a curse scar left on me at an early age. I had been kidnapped by squibs," he said. It was only a half truth... Only one had been a squib. The others had been mere muggles who didn't know what they were doing with a cursed object. "My parents found me, of course. My father made them regret what they had done. But I've borne this mark ever since. The rest... Well... You know what happens when wild dogs refuse to serve their masters."

It was a long time before Draco found his voice again. When he did, he suspected he knew the answer before even asking. "Why?"

"For helping your mother. For treating her wounds and showing her the respect she deserved as a human being." His eyes were hard now. His expression no longer open, but guarded and empty of all else. "Once you have eaten and had your bandages checked, we will begin with your training. When I am through with you, little lord, not even Dumbledore himself will be able to challenge the dragon you will become."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got it out by the end of the month as promised! WOO! It was like pulling teeth there in the middle, but we made it! Hope you enjoy, and we'll try to have the next chapter out by the middle of July. Don't be mad if it's late though... work schedules are picking up.


	10. 9. Eruditio

Harry and his friends finished off their Hogsmeade visit with a trip to the Three Broomsticks and some butterbeers. Unfortunately for Harry, Hermione, and Ginny they couldn't wiggle out of an invitation to supper when Professor Slughorn caught sight of them. The large, doddering old man planted himself at their table, between Ron and Hermione.

Inwardly Harry had hoped the babbling old fool would drop down between himself and Ginny. Regardless, the three trudged back to the castle, trying to devise excuses while Ron stewed in annoyance at having been overlooked.

"I can't stand him," Hermione said at last. "He's always going on about everyone he knows and how famous they are. People like him make me sick."

Ginny shrugged. "I don't see the harm in it," she said. "He's really proud of his former students and the things they've achieved."

Harry dropped her hand, causing her to pout. "It's annoying," Harry said, not explicitly saying their hand holding had been. But not quite denying it either. After a pause, he added. "He only wants to be seen with me because of my fame. Professor Dumbledore asked me to try and get close to him. I suppose I'll have to go whether I want to or not."

"What's so important about the old man anyway?" Ron asked, coming up along Ginny's other side as they came upon the large castle doors.

"The headmaster believes he holds an important secret about Voldemort." He ignored his friends' cringing at the name. "Until we know what it is, I have to play nice."

**o0o**

Draco sat back in his chair, staring at the silent man perched on the end of the table. It was unnerving, seeing him like that. Sitting with a knee on either side of his head, bare feet planted on the wood with his hands gripping the edge to keep from falling over.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

"Thinking," he replied without opening his eyes.

"About?"

He sighed, then moved with the speed and agility of the beast inside. Soon he was standing flat upon the floor. Draco inwardly reminded himself to clean that end of the table thoroughly before going to sleep that night. "About where to start you off at. What spells to begin with." He turned to face the teen now, a hand on his hip with the other hanging limply at his side. "You're well versed in basic dark arts. And exceptional with a wand. But your wandless magic needs some work, and I know you have blocks on any wild magic in your core. That needs to be removed if you're going to attain your animagus form."

"I am not-"

"You're a Black. Every Black, even your mother, is an animagus. Thankfully Bellatrix's is pretty useless, otherwise we might have problems there."

"What?"

He smiled wickedly. "She's a common housefly. Houseflies can be swatted away quite easily. The most she can be is annoying. Now come, it's time to get to work." He moved quickly to a door Draco hadn't noticed before. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see the entrance of the room. Opposite that were the two bedroom doors. But there, beside the fireplace, was another door. Nearly invisible had it not been for the very slight discoloration of the stonework. Toby had out his wand, and tapped the stones with deliberate slowness. Obviously Draco was meant to see the combination. When he lowered his wand, the doors parted in similar fashion to the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Toby stepped in first, with Draco following. What he saw was less than he had expected. Against one wall there stood a low, but long, bookshelf. Ancient tomes lined the four shelves of each section. To the left, a table with one chair. Stacks of rolled, new parchment sat with copious bottles of ink, and a box of new quills sit in the center.

To the left, an empty space with markings scratched into the stone floor. It was to this area he walked, passing his guardian. Behind them, the wall sealed itself. Locking them inside.

"This," Toby said as Draco inspected the symbols on the floor, finding them not scratched in but hewn into the rock quite carefully. "Is where we will train. I added it in, with Snape's help, after Dumbledore had finished. He is, to my knowledge, unaware of its existence. We will keep it this way. If the old fool knew of the things I am going to teach you, I would be marked as an enemy and a Dark Lord collaborator. Is that understood?"

"I've no reason to tell the old fool anything."

Toby nodded in response. "Good. Now hex me."

"What?"

"I want the strongest, most powerful hex you know. In this space, hold nothing back. Now **HEX ME!"** he shouted, not even raising his wand to defend himself.

**o0o**

Neville had never been an early riser. But unlike his dorm mates, he didn't sleep his Sundays away. His night had been filled with a fitful sleep. An uneasiness that had settled on him two nights previous, when Harry had stormed off from his friends to take an early night's rest. He needed to talk to him. Just from looking at him, at the way he acted even around his friends, Neville could see that something in him had changed over the summer.

Had changed the night that his godfather had been murdered.

When he woke to find Harry's bed nearby empty, he quietly and carefully searched for his robe before descending the stairs. He took them one at a time, slowly, to keep them from creaking as he ventured down to the common room.

Just as he had suspected, he found Harry. Seated by the fireplace with a book in his lap. That was... Well, he hadn't expected to see Harry with a book. The boy was known for his poor study habits. Just as he approached his friend, he glimpsed the rather old and beaten cover of a potions textbook. Neville was grateful that he hadn't needed to take it this year, with or without Snape the subject was daunting.

"Morning Harry," he said, making himself known to the other boy, who quickly shut his book and tucked it between his thigh and the arm of the chair. "Fancy seeing you up so early."

"Yeah... Well," he said, not really intending it to go anywhere as Neville sat down on the sofa nearby.

"I couldn't sleep," Neville said, hoping to get Harry talking. "Been having nightmares a lot lately. About Bellatrix."

He wasn't lying. The fact that the woman who had tortured his parents into insanity was still out there drove him to work harder. To practice and train more. But more often than not his dreams were riddled with their encounter at the DOM. Though recently she had fallen to the background... And he was worried for his friend.

"I know what you mean," Harry replied quietly.

Both boys had something they felt needed to be talked about, but neither knew how to start. In the silence that fell between them, they each thought on what to say. Harry fidgeted, remembering what the werewolf had told him when he'd gone to check on Draco. Well that, Harry supposed, was a good place to start. "I saw Draco," he said. "Before he was released to his new rooms."

"Oh? How was he? I heard the rumours, and I've seen him in a few classes. He doesn't look well. Hides it, but honestly he looks so tired all the time."

"He looked terrible," Harry admitted. "And Pomfrey couldn't use magic to help him. The knife they used was anti-magic. And any little spell used on him would hurt."

Neville nodded. "It was probably coated in a poison. It got into his bloodstream and spread throughout. He'd have had to heal the muggle way."

Harry nodded in return. "It was awful," he said. "And Mr. Black was in bad shape too. His vow nearly killed him I think. Because Draco was dying, it punished him for not protecting him." He glanced at Neville, unsure how to bring up the question he needed to ask.

"I've heard of it removing magic, turning people into squibs, but never killing them."

"Maybe it was a different kind. A dark arts version?"

"All Unbreakable Vows have the same consequences..." Neville said, but it was clear by his expression he was giving the theory some thought. "I can look it up, if you want. I mean, I'm no Hermione but I might be able to find something. Maybe my gran would know."

"Thanks," he said.

"I heard someone in his own house did it to him," Neville said after a moment more of thought. "Was it-"

"I don't know who it was. But yeah. It was Slytherins," Harry said, almost sadly. If you couldn't count on your own house mates... "Speaking of," he added. "Since Draco switched sides, I've been thinking. There might be other Slytherin students who aren't linked to Voldemort." Neville shuddered at the mention of the name, but Harry continued on. "Or are at least neutral. It might help us if we found out who they were. Maybe convince them to help us. They could let us know who in the school to keep an eye on."

Neville shook his head. "Even if there are, I doubt they would rat on their house mates. Especially to Gryffindors. Especially to you."

"It doesn't have to be me," he said. "Luna's a Ravenclaw. And she appears non-threatening. Odd, but they wouldn't see her as a danger."

"It might work, but first we would have to know who we could trust in that house. And I don't think it'll be easy."

This was his opportunity. "What about Zabini?"

"Zabini?"

"Yeah. Mr. Black mentioned him to me. Said his family can't stand the Death Eaters."

Neville hummed, watching Harry closely as he tried to remember everything he could about the Zabini family. "I think... he might be right. My gran once told me about Countess Zabini fighting off Death Eaters in the first war, when she refused to join them. They laid siege to her home, but she refused every offer. Replied to every threat. Until finally she... Well, according to the story, she sent back one of the d... One of Voldemort's generals." He swallowed. "Without a head."

"So it's safe to say that the Zabinis really don't like them. And aren't part of Voldemort's army then."

Neville shrugged. "It's just a story. But Harry, be careful if you approach him. He's a Slytherin, and you know how slimy they can be."

Harry nodded, reassuring his friend that he would be careful in whatever he decided to do. They changed their conversation to more pleasant matters. School work and Neville's gardening over the summer.

It was far too soon when Harry heard the cheerful call of "Good morning Harry!" from the girl's stairwell. Ginny Weasley had finally woken up.

**o0o**

Draco flung hex after hex, watching as the mongrel flung them away or back. Deflected or returned. Each time angrier and angrier. Shouting at the teen, growling that he could do better. That he knew Draco was holding back. That he shouldn't focus on purely dark spells.

" ** _Arma Lucis_**!" he snapped when Draco, in frustration, flung a cruciatis at him. The spell rebounded, creating an explosion of force that knocked both men backwards.

Tobias recovered quickly, leaping to his feet and rushing to Draco's side. "You alright kid?"

Draco groaned, reaching for his side. "It hurts."

"Well, what did you expect?" Tobias replied, kneeling beside him. He lifted his shirt, checking around his injury. "No blood. Your stitches held." He placed a hand over the red, raised area. "A little warm... But no internal damage. On your feet soldier." He brushed his hands on his knees before rising back to his feet again. Draco opened his eyes, glaring at him.

"I could have been killed!"

"Yes. You could have. I didn't say this was going to be easy. And it took us a while to get there, but you finally started tapping into your core. Breaking through the walls put up to prevent your power from truly growing."

He held out his hand, offering it to his charge.

Draco reached up and slapped it away, insisting on getting to his feet himself. Toby shrugged, standing back and smirking at him as Draco struggled to stand. "What WAS that?!" he demanded angrily once he was standing.

"That," Toby said, hands open with palms facing Draco in a non-threatening manner. "Was the most powerful light spell I know. The _Arma Lucis_ , literally translated it is Light Armor. A protective shield created by focusing the wavelengths of light into a singularity, and merging it, briefly with your magical core."

"But you're a dark wizard!"

"And I told you not to focus on purely dark spells. The _Arma Lucis_ works only against dark magic, being the polar opposite of it. Did you notice how it was cast?" he asked, his tone more akin to an instructor than a protector.

"You did not use your wand."

"And?"

"Your hand. I often see you waving a hand to complete a spell, rather than your wand. The spells you use your wand hand for are mundane. Common spells that can easily be done with the wand. Yet your opposite hand had been used. This, I often see, is the case for more complicated spellwork."

"Correct. Now tell me how it was cast."

"With your hand."

"Go deeper, Draco. What did you notice about the hand in question?"

Draco looked from his face to his hand, then down at his own corresponding limb. He turned his hand over to examine the back, then again the palm. His fingers bent inward one by one. First one at a time, then two, three. Different combinations of the fingers. "You applied a specific hand position."

"Yes, I did."

"The specific position of the fingers mimics the movements of a wand. By bending your fingers inward, or splaying them out at the sides, you can focus or unfocus as necessary. But it is the lines of the hand that have the most significance."

Toby nodded, interrupting Draco before he could go further. He waved him over, motioning towards the table. "Each line of the hand is representative of a point in your magical core. Head, heart, life. Each serves a purpose. The Arma Lucis taps into the heart line, a direct conduit to the heart, where the most raw and powerful magic is stored in your core. Seventeen years ago, this spell had no name. Because of where it draws its power many claim it is Love. Ironically, emotions do come into play whether we like it or not."

He pulled out the chair, indicating that Draco sit. When he was seated, Toby went to the bookshelf and pulled three volumes that, when they were placed in front of Draco, gave off a horrendous smell.

He pulled a face. "These are awful!"

"They come from the Potter family library. Obviously, they've been neglected for quite some time."

Grey eyes widened in disbelief as he turned in his seat to stare at Toby. A million questions flew through his mind. "How did you come by these?"

"The place was abandoned. I... took a little trip one night to rifle through the wreckage. Look, they're useful. Now start with the top one, and work your way through. The Potters were rather brilliant when it came to spell creation. Their power and their ingenuity created some of the most powerful and complex spells in existence. I want you to pay special attention to the notations by Hadrian James Potter the seventh. They are quite illuminating on the subject of animagi and wild magic."

He indicated the parchment rolls. "Take notes as you deem necessary. By Saturday, I expect you to have mastered the _Arma Lucis_ and have a working theoretical knowledge of the key elements of wild magic."

"I'm not going to sit here all day rifling through Potter's books."

He gave a wolfish grin. "Oh, I didn't say all day. This is just your rest period. We'll be getting back to work after lunch is served. If you've done well, I might even explain how I was able to pull you into my memories that one time."

With that, the werewolf turned on his heel, hands clasped behind his back as he went to the blank wall where they had entered. He briefly unclasped them in order to tap the stonework with his finger, then disappeared back into their common room. The wall quickly sealed itself again, trapping Draco inside.

He groaned, turning his attention back to the old, smelly books that sat before him. "Start with the top," he mumbled. "Stupid Potter. Probably doesn't even know they exist." Looking around the training room, he decided to get up and look around. Though most of the books looked like they were going to fall apart if touched, he could not pass up the chance to examine them. Assuming they all came from the Potter library, he hoped to find some information that could be used later. Perhaps he could find dark magic texts among the famous Light magic using family's history. Information that could be used against Potter when...

"You must stop thinking like that," Draco said to himself.

He had switched sides in this war. Constantly he had to remind himself that Potter was no longer his enemy. In fact, due to the oaths sworn when they repaired the wards at Grimmauld Place, Potter was now his liege lord.

After exploring the room, and finding that he couldn't get out when tapping the stones with his finger or his wand, he sat back down in the chair. He reached for a roll of parchment, then a quill from the box and a bottle of ink. The first book was heavy, and he let it drop before him with a slam against the antique wood. A sigh passed his lips as he opened the cover to discover the book was written in German.

"Oh for the love of Salazar!" he exclaimed in frustration, casting a translation charm on the book.

It was going to be a much longer day than he had initially thought.

**o0o**

Blaise Zabini. That was his next goal. To talk to him, to get information on any neutral Slytherins that could be swayed... To get his support, at least in helping Draco. Helping keep him safe.

For once he was able to sit through breakfast without having been the focus of Ginny's attention. She had instead engaged herself in a rather heated argument over a homework assignment for Charms, and was unable to give Harry the normal amount of her affections. He was rather grateful for it, as it gave him time to actually eat and speak with his friends.

"I think," he said in a low tone to Ron and Hermione, "That we should find out who in Slytherin is actually not a junior Death Eater. If we had a connection inside the house, we might be able to keep a check on any activities going on here. They attacked Malfoy in the open, so we know there's a division in the house."

"That's a great idea Harry," she said. "But how would we approach any of them? If we follow them around all the time trying to figure out who is neutral, then we'll look suspicious. And you know how Slytherin house operates. They'll close ranks faster than Snape takes away points."

He nodded, then looked to Ron, who had a sausage sticking out of his mouth. A muffled answer before he took the uneaten part away from his lips and finished chewing. "Well," he said, spitting bits of sausage as he spoke.

"Ewww!" Hermione exclaimed. "At least swallow before you speak Ronald!"

The tops of his ears flushed red against his fire colored hair before he did exactly that. "We could check out some of the Ravenclaws. They have more classes with Slytherin than Gryffindor, and those two houses seem to have at least a good relationship between them."

Harry nodded.

"Did you have anyone in mind already? I know you Harry - you've always got your eye on anyone suspicious. And since Malfoy's now with us, I'm sure you've been keeping track of who's taken charge of the snakes since then."

"I'm thinking we'll start with Blaise Zabini."

"Why him?"

"Same year as us. Plus he seems to be in the background of a lot of things over there. Always watching but never really asserting himself unless he has to. If anyone knows anything about what's going on in the dungeons, I'll bet he's the one." Harry picked up a piece of toast and started to munch on it thoughtfully.

Ron shrugged. "What about any girls?"

"Parkinson seems to have been Malfoy's right hand with the girls. Logically speaking," Hermione said, stopping only to take a sip from her pumpkin juice. "With Malfoy out of the picture, she likely has taken control of at least the girls from his group. As for the boys... I can't really be sure."

"Definitely not Crabbe or Goyle. Those two couldn't find their way out of a bedsheet, let alone rally a group of kids to attack one of their own."

"Something's not right in that house. The balance of power has shifted so drastically... I'll see what I can find-"

"Let's send Luna," Seamus said.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry all turned their attention to Seamus in unison. "What?"

He gave them a sly smirk. "What, didn't think I'd be paying attention to you lot yammering on right next to me? Way I see it, you should send Luna to find out about the girls. She's looney, she is. Nobody would suspect her for anything. Plus, she's a Ravenclaw. Slytherins like them a whole lot better than they like any of us."

"It's perfect," Hermione said. "Harry, I think we should call a DA meeting, too. Let everyone know to keep their eyes out, that way they don't think something fishy's going if they see us talking to kids from Slytherin."

The remainder of breakfast went by with the owl post arriving a little late due to the wet and rainy weather. Harry frowned when one of the school owls dropped a scroll in front of him. Looking up and down the table, he saw others had received the same bright green ribbon wrapped scroll.

"Oh no..." he heard Ginny groan. "Not again."

Harry looked to Hermione, who also received a scroll. The two glanced once more up and down the table to see how many at their house table received one. Very, very few. Harry untied the green ribbon, setting it beside his plate and unfurled the scroll.

"Bloody hell," he said as he read the flowing handwriting of one Professor Horace Slughorn, cordially inviting him to a special dinner party to be held late that evening, the previous dinner having been rescheduled due to an accidental explosion in the potions classroom by his incompetent apprentice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_eruditio_** \- _latin_ \- learning, instruction, knowledge, teaching, erudition, education  
>  ** _arma lucis_** \- _latin_ \- light armor


	11. 10. Glances

Just as promised, Draco's training resumed after lunch with the application of non-verbal defensive spells. An hour before supper, he was seated again at the table to study. He was surprised by the depth of the concepts found in the text. Indeed, the handwritten notes in the margins and the diagrams hand drawn into the larger once blank spaces were helpful. He soaked up the information like a sponge. Comitting every spell, every definition and idea to memory. Recipes for potions drew his attention the most. And he had been forced to admit that he had been quite impressed by the potions that relied solely on muggle medicines available in the century the texts originally hailed from.

Draco had been so engrossed in his reading that when Tobias tapped him lightly on the shoulder for dinner, he jumped from the chair in fright.

Toby laughed heartily, reaching out to clasp a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Come, come," he said, giving it a squeeze. "It's time to eat. Give that brain of yours a rest for a while."

"But-"

"No buts, little lord." He let him go and turned to exit the training room. When he noticed Draco's hesitation he added, "Perhaps you don't wish to know some of my secrets then. Just as well I suppose..."

"No no, I'm coming," he said, reaching for his rolls of parchment.

"Leave them. They're safer in here than our rooms. Remember, a certain headmaster cannot enter this sanctuary whereas he has access to the rest."

With a nod, slow and regretful, Draco followed. When he stepped out of the training room, the wall once more sealed behind them. Before them, the table was laden with much food. A wide variety of meats. Cheeses and soups. Fresh breads and mead. Yes, that sweet and sinful drink of fermented honey.

"This is-"

"Yeah. Honey is a natural restorative. Mead retains many of the health benefits of honey. Alcoholic drinks, in moderation, can help relax the muscles and tension. Unless you'd like to drink one of those disgusting potions..."

"You know it is against the rules for students to consume-"

"All the more reason," he replied, seating himself at one end of the table. He rubbed his hands together before greedily reaching out for a the serving fork standing in a pile of ham slices. "Do pardon my table manners. But the sun goes down soon and I need to eat my fill before I leave for the night. It won't do to wake and find I've gone hunting."

He piled what to Draco seemed a disgusting amount of food on his plate while the teen slipped into his chair. He reached for a basket of hot yeast rolls. "What are the marks carved into the floor of the room?" Draco asked, figuring he had little else in common to speak of with the man. He wrinkled his nose as he filled his plate modestly with meats and cheeses. A small portion of bread and a helping of steamed carrots and potatoes. Many of the foods, he noticed, were heavy in fats and protein. More than likely to accommodate the ravenous appetite of the wolf.

"Protective sigils. A great deal for concealment. Not only is the room hidden from the meddling headmaster, it's shielded against nosey ministry idiots. Why do you think we didn't immediately receive howlers and memos for the use of dark magic? Because it cannot be detected from outside that room."

"I don't recognize them from any text. Nor from any ritual sanctum I have ever visited."

"You wouldn't. I learned them from my father," he said, taking a large bite of chicken right off the leg bone. "Who learned them from his father." As he spoke, bits of meat fell out of his mouth while he reached for another handful of bread. "My grandfather created them." Though, he supposed, it had been an unending loop. He had learned them from Sherlock, who had learned them from Draco, who had seen them used here in this place. Learned them here and now. He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and took a great swallow of mead.

"That's not what you want to know though, is it? You want to know a great deal. And I am, for the moment, inclined to answer if I am able."

Draco swallowed, setting his fork down beside his plate and wiping his mouth carefully, politely with his napkin. He reached for the mead cautiously, but having seen his companion take a swallow himself, knew it would be safe to drink. He took a small sip, licking his lips at the sweet honey taste. "Yes, I have many questions. Many I fear you will never answer."

"Perhaps," the hungry wolf replied, silver eyes watching every move Draco made.

"Firstly, the books I am to study, and the others on the shelves. You claim they are from the Potter family library. I do not doubt the first volume I have studied. Indeed you were correct that Hadrian the seventh had left quite detailed and enlightening notes throughout the work."

Toby nodded.

"But I am curious as to how you attained them. A few short nights ago, you claim. That may very well be true. I question the manner in which you acquired them."

"Like I said, I rifled through the wreckage. Potter's cottage is still there. You have been there yourself, inside the ruin."

Draco frowned in concentration, trying to recall such an instance.

"We fled from the muggle village into the forest. Then apparated to a crumbling ruin."

"We were in Godric's Hollow?"

"Yes. Is it so hard to believe?"

"The.. But everyone knows that the Potter's cottage was under a fidelus. That's why it looks like an empty lot!"

"From the outside, perhaps. But on the inside... When you are a creature hated and hunted by society, you learn to uncover and harness secrets. Secrets that can save your life by hiding in plain sight. I learned the secret of Potter's cottage from the rat Pettigrew before our grand escape. A well placed accio and a few drops of veritaserum can work wonders. Never forget that, little lord." He took another bite of his dinner and chased it down with a large swallow of mead. "I nipped back a few nights ago to search through the wreckage. To find anything I could to help in your training. I was able to remove them from the basement due to the vow we each made to Potter. I serve you first, and Potter second. It is my duty to make you more able to serve the liege lord. Anything that will aid me in this purpose, I found I could take. Magic, you see, depends largely on intent. If I had intended to simply take them for personal gain, I would have been prevented from doing so."

"I see... Father placed similar charms on the items in his study and the library. As well as the ancestral vaults."

Their meal passed in this manner. Draco asking one of the many questions whizzing through his mind. Toby answering as much as his situation could allow. Finally, after a long silence had fallen across the table, and Toby had eaten his fill, Draco felt he must voice one more inquiry. After all... Tobias had mentioned he may reveal how he had pulled Draco into his own memories. It was this question Draco put to him now, and Toby gave a groan, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. Evening was drawing to a close. The sun would soon be down and the full moon risen high.

"I... My brother and sister experimented with the legilimency spell. Mainly to aid in their work. The use of a pensieve was, unfortunately, limiting. They can be altered and corrupted with time and effort. However, to be able to walk among one another's memories, they could review information in its natural state in a matter of seconds or hours. Hold conversations in absolute secrecy. If you wish, I can teach you the fundamentals of this technique." He groaned, and unconsciously rubbed his arm. "But not tonight."

"I think I would like that," he replied before Toby hurried off.

He did not want Draco to see him change his skin.

**o0o**

Harry tugged at his collar. He had tried to wriggle his way out of the dinner party, but Professor Slughorn had cornered him in the Great Hall at lunch, reminding both him and Ginny of the affair.

They had been unable to excuse themselves from it. However, Harry noted, there had been a silver lining to his misery.

Blaise Zabini. The Slytherin had also been roped into attendance.

The dinner had been filled with pretentious conversation and name dropping. Slughorn's persistent questions about Harry and his known exploits. Unwanted praise from the professor, and the unspoken insinuation that one day, when Harry had attained a level of influence and power, he wouldn't forget dear old Professor Slughorn now would he?

The more the old man talked about his famous friends and former pupils, the more Harry started to drift off or drown him out. He looked around the table, surprised to notice Zabini watching him. The boy's eyes turned to Ginny, then back to Harry almost in question. Harry sighed and blinked slowly, and Zabini rolled his own eyes. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders Harry reached for his drink.

He didn't know what exactly had just transpired, but at least he had reason enough now to speak to the boy after the most boring dinner he had ever attended would end.

**o0o**

The wolf prowled the halls in the dark of night. Hiding from the nuisance that was the grounds-keeper's cat, he made his way around. Keeping watch. In the back of his mind, he knew what he truly was. A man, clad in the skin and bound to the bones of a wolf.

But in this state, he was free. The war taking place just beneath his skin and in the depths of his consciousness was, for a time, silenced. Man and beast were one and the same. The brilliance of man and the power of beast.

And so, it was in this state Tobias would do his work. Hunger sated early in the evening with Draco, he was able to focus in on his task. Keep watch in the castle, yes, but also to track. To track her movements. To gain entry to the Room of Requirement. To gain Parkinson's trust as the beast, one branded as enslaved to the Dark Lord. In this way, he could learn exactly how the events to come would be set into motion. Exactly when he needed to take Draco into hiding. To warn Dumbledore, though he thoroughly disliked the old man, of the impending battle.

He waited outside the door for her. Sniffing the air and hiding when he noticed a change in scents.

But he waited.

He knew she would come out. And that was when he would show himself to her.

That was when he would begin his long hunt.

**o0o**

"Merlin!" Ginny exclaimed after they had left Slughorn's office. "I thought he would never let us leave."

Harry hung back some, looking around at the other students who left the dinner party. Talking quietly amongst themselves as they began to fan out in their different directions. He spotted Zabini chatting with another Slytherin boy. He caught Harry's eye and raised a quizzical brow. Harry turned his attention away only when Ginny took his hand.

"Come on Harry."

He pulled his hand away quickly. "You go on. I'll catch up."

"But-"

"DA business," he interrupted. "Ron, Hermione, and I decided to call a meeting tomorrow night. I'll tell you about it then. But right now, I've got something to take care of," he said.

She pouted, disappointment clear on her face before she quickly recovered. "I could come with you."

He shook his head, glancing back towards Zabini, who now was further up the hallway leading towards the Slytherin dorms. "No. I have to do this alone. If you're there, it might not turn out the way we need it to."

She followed his gaze and lowered her voice. "You can't be serious, Harry. He's a Slytherin. A junior Death Eater."

"Zabini's mum fights against Death Eaters, Ginny."

"He's dark."

"So's Malfoy. And they tried to kill him. I'll explain everything tomorrow night. Promise."

Ginny watched him go then, hurrying to catch up with the two Slytherin boys. She lingered, just a little longer, to watch as Harry and Zabini glanced around, exchanging a few looks before they disappeared under Harry's invisibility cloak.

**o0o**

Ginny burst into the common room, having run straight back to Gryffindor Tower after watching Harry and Zabini disappear beneath the cloak.

"Merlin's beard!" Ron exclaimed when he saw her, jumping up from his seat by the fire where he and Neville had been playing chess. Both boys unable to sleep in dread of their first exams the next day. "Where's the fire?" Neville called over from his seat.

"More importantly, where's Harry?"

"He... Zabini..."

"Breathe girl," Ron said.

Ginny nodded as Neville brought her a glass of water. She gulped it down and reached for the nearest table to steady herself. Once she had caught her breath, she handed the glass back to Neville, who turned it back into a chess piece. "Harry," she started. "After the dinner was over, we were heading back here. But he left to go talk to Zabini. They'd been exchanging glances all evening. It was unnerving, Ron. Like they were having a conversation without actually having a conversation."

"Yeah, well, where is he now? Why didn't he come back with you?"

"He's talking to Zabini. At least, I hope that's what he's doing. They disappeared under his stupid cloak!"

"Trust me, Gin, that's all they're doing," Ron reassured her. "It's about tomorrow night. We're calling a DA meeting."

"Yeah, that's what Harry said but-"

"We hope to have a spy in Slytherin. To know what's really going on over there. I mean, Malfoy's been their leader for years. And suddenly his own friends try to kill him. There's junior Death Eaters in there, but Harry thinks there's some who aren't. They're the ones we need to talk to. That's why he's talking to Zabini. To check if he's with us or against us."

Neville listened as Ron continued to explain the plan to her, and while his outward expression showed nothing of his true thoughts on it, but watching Ginny's face, her movements as Ron spoke to her, inwardly he was beginning to doubt her. He knew it was wrong. She was his friend; a fellow DA member. They had fought in the Ministry together. Had faced Death Eaters and Umbridge both together. Yet something was off about Ginny. Her attachment to Harry bordered on obsession. He'd noted this, off and on in passing, through the years he'd known her. But never had it become more illustrated than this moment. With each mention of Harry's name her eyes lit up and her worry over his association with a Slytherin put at ease whenever Ron said it was Harry's idea to begin with.

As if Harry could do no wrong.

It was unhealthy.

When Harry returned hours later, Neville had remained in the common room to read after the others went upstairs to sleep. Harry slipped quietly through the room towards the stairs, and in the firelight Neville swore the other boy's cheeks were flushed. Perhaps the rosy colour came from his hurry to return to the tower. Perhaps he hadn't accidentally found that some of the rumours about Blaise Zabini were true.

**o0o**

Draco had tossed and turned all night. Unable to sleep, unable to relax. Unable to stop thinking about Tobias's answers for him at supper. It was of the great mystery he now pondered in his tired mind. Of the spell that had pulled Draco into the wolf's mind.

A variant of legilimency, he had said. Spells, Draco knew, were difficult to change. It took years of study to even master the theory behind such a task. More years than he was sure Tobias had lived. And the practice... the skill involved was dangerous. Fatal even, if it failed. He knew of very few wizards and witches who had mastered the art of spell creation to the point that they could alter existing spells with ease.

And yet here was this young man. Strange, eccentric, and often times alien. Able to cast spells without voice, without wand, and on a range he had seen only the headmaster, his father, and the Dark Lord capable of. No... Not only them.

Potter, though untrained and unskilled, had power behind his wand. Wild and hardly tested - but he remembered sorely third year and his encounter with Potter's patronus. A spell no third year could have, should have been able to master so easily and quickly.

Laying in bed, staring at the canopy while pondering Potter's potential, he realized Tobias often showed similar characteristics. The carelessness of his actions. The clumsy way he cast his magic. The fault of allowing his emotions to lead him more often than his mind and logic. His stubborn loyalty. His unwavering faith in powers greater than himself.

The look of despair on his face when he believed none could see it. The defeat in his eyes, hidden behind the smile and laughter.

And yet - Harry had something more than the mysterious cousin Tobias had.

Where Tobias hid his uncertainty with conviction and determination, Harry hid his conviction behind a veil of uncertainty.

Where Tobias looked on the world with weary old eyes, Harry saw it through a looking glass. Saw it filled with danger, yes, but also excitement and wonder. He saw the world as if it were still unfolding before him.

Tobias saw it as if he had seen all there had been to be seen. Had learned all there was to learn. He looked at the world as if an old man looking back on a life long lived.

Draco finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, wondering how much tragedy his companion had truly seen, and how many people he had lost in his time on this earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter that will be written by Z and Tem. From this point on, Z will be writing this fic alone. Tem will, when time permits, beta for the fic. However, he no longer has time to manage this account, and is giving it to Z (since it's used for the Sherlock!Wizardverse fics anyway.)  
> Thanks for sticking with the fic this long, and hopefully you'll stick around a bit longer.


	12. 11. Meetings

Draco had decided to head down to the common room for breakfast rather than keep to his rooms. He knew it would be difficult, considering his previous attempts to sit among his housemates since his near death experience. And yet he felt that if he could get through breakfast then he would have one small victory over those who had attempted to do him in.

He found, to his pleasant surprise on this otherwise dreadfully dreary morning, that a place had been saved for him at the table. However he looked further down from this place, to his normal position among his house's seating arrangements. Strangely his own inner circle had closed ranks around... Parkinson?

She sat flanked by his own cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. This was quite the surprise, as the pair had been fiercely loyal to him at the start of the term. And yet...

"Draco, come sit here."

He had not realized he had been standing and staring at what should have been his place. He turned his head to see Blaise Zabini grinning at him, indicating the seat across from him. The vacant place Draco had first spotted between two girls he vaguely recognized.

"Come on, Draco. We're harmless garden snakes over here."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he muttered, sighing and taking his place on the bench between the girls.

"Rachel, Zoe, give the man a little more space would you?" Blaise said.

The girls scooted some to make just a bit more room for Draco at the table. He stowed his bag at his feet and looked at the food before him. After the decadent supper the night before and the lovely, sweet mead he'd had with it... The breakfast before him of porridge, eggs, and salted meats with pumpkin juice was much less appealing.

"Don't worry," the girl to his left said kindly. Her voice a bit high pitched for her age. "We'll keep an eye on you from here out."

The girl to his right gave a nod, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. "That's right. Besides, who needs brawn when cunning and intelligence will forever win in the end?"

Draco was not sure what to make of the change in his situation. Stealing a glance towards the head table, he saw Tobias sitting there beside, of all people, the notoriously batty Professor Trelawney. The wolf flashed him a quick smile before returning to his conversation... And if his sour expression was anything to go by he clearly was not enjoying the woman's company. As he ate, he watched the girls from the corner of his eyes. Anticipating the moment when they, too, would turn to bite. When he looked, periodically, at Blaise he saw little more than a boy he knew only by association. The occasional greeting in recognition as they passed one another at yet another high society banquet.

Quietly he watched as a girl approached the table, catching Zabini's attention. She was, of all people, the strange Ravenclaw that had become a common fixture at the fringes of Harry Potter's circle of friends.

"Hello Rachel. Zoe. Blaise." She turned her dreamy smile to Draco, and though he never thought much of her, he could see the expression on her face held no ill will. It was open and sincere. And she smiled at him. "Hello Malfoy. I am pleased to see you are well."

She turned her attention to Blaise, keeping that smile on her face the entire time. "The forest king holds court and requests the company of the speckled band."

"The speckled band will attend. However he will not slither on his own."

Luna's smile softened. "Of course. A place is set for each of the naga."

"And?"

"And that's it. That's all." She glanced at Draco, her eyes softening just a little more. He knew then that whatever she had been talking about, he was to be included. He just couldn't be mentioned, even in her strange code speech. "So," she said. "I'll see you in Divination, Rachel? Zoe?"

The girls chattered a little longer before Looney Luna Lovegood had left them. He could have sworn the Gryffindors behind him were looking in their direction. Had he turned around to check, he would have been right. Three sets of eyes were focused on the section of his table where he and Blaise sat. Yet... there had been only one pair looking directly at him.

**o0o**

Draco had agreed with Blaise on a meeting place after supper. It was hard to give Tobias the slip, and he wasn't entirely sure he had managed to do so completely. When he caught sight of Rachel, Zoe, and Blaise he felt the tension that had built up in himself all day begin to fade.

"We'll be meeting them in the Come and Go room I suppose," Zoe said, not noticing Draco's presence just yet, as he had not lowered his notice-me-not spell.

"No. I warned Potter after that atrocious dinner party that someone else has been using it at night."

"Who?"

"I don't yet know. But I've got someone working on it. We should discover their identity rather soon I should think," Blaise answered, then looked past his two right hand girls. "Ah, Draco. Good, we're all here. Let's get moving then shall we."

The spell broken, the girls now noticing his presence, Draco cleared his throat. "One question before we proceed," he began. Blaise nodded and the two girls looked at him expectantly. "How divided is the house of Slytherin? This is an issue best not discussed around... their kind."

"Quite right," Blaise said, turning to lead them down the corridor. "We will discuss it on the way. Rachel, take point. Zoe, the rear if you please."

The girl Zoe puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. "I'm always at the rear..."

"Because you're never distracted by mine."

Rachel huffed. "It was ONE time, Blaise. Honestly, you're never going to let me live that down are you?"

"Not while it brings me so much joy, my dear."

With a roll of his eyes, Draco fell into step with them. Rachel ahead and Zoe behind.

When it was obvious Blaise intended to leave the castle, Draco reached out to put a hand on his arm. The group stopped walking at once, both girls keeping keen eyes out for danger and professors alike. "Were, exactly, are we going? I thought the woods had been code for something else entirely."

"Oh, it was. We're going to a secure, neutral location off school grounds."

"Won't anyone notice-"

"Not the way we're going. Now come on, it's a rather long walk." They started again. Draco took in every detail of the route. Once outside, their pace quickened for fear of being seen from windows. They hurried, to Draco's horror, towards the Whomping Willow.

Before Draco could object, Rachel cast a powerful stunner at the tree, immobilizing it temporarily. "Hurry," she said at the secret entrance to a tunnel. "I don't know how much longer it'll hold. In you go."

Zoe went in first, wand raised and ready for an ambush, followed quickly by Blaise and Draco. Rachel took one more look at the Whomping Willow before ducking inside behind them.

**o0o**

Alone in her tower, Trelawney watched. Sipping her tea as the four students crossed the courtyard seen by looking out her favorite window. A smile spread across her lips as she nodded towards them knowingly.

Then she heard it, the drop of the ladder. With a sigh she set down her relaxing cup of tea, brought her hands to her hair and disheveled it. A quick application of awful perfume and the addition of an unfocused look in her eyes, she waited for who she knew must have come to see her. Only one person ever made their way up here for anything other than a class.

She leaned forward and picked up her teacup again, draining it quickly as the footfalls began. Then, with a crazed look on her face, she began humming and muttering to complete the persona she regularly adopted for all those who, in her eyes, deserved a false prophet.

"Ah... just as I have foreseen... Oh dear. This cannot be right-"

"Sybill-"

She slammed the teacup down on the china saucer, upside down, causing the tealeaves inside to clump together on the dish. "Never have I seen a more hateful, spiteful, teacup!" she declared angrily. "All I wished to know was how my dear cousin Gertrude is doing in her later years. But all I see is doom for the Potter boy!"

Dumbledore shook his head with a small amused smile. "Sybill, my dear, don't be so hard on yourself."

"Where is my sherry!" she shouted, rising from her favorite chair and searching in the nooks and crannies of her office for it. For the bottle she kept only coloured water in as in truth she could not abide the taste of alcohol. As she searched, she could feel the tingle at the base of her neck rising up, crawling up the back of her skull. She feigned, as always, not to notice. Only to become a little more docile to show the headmaster that yes, he did indeed have just enough pull upon her addled mind to be gentle. For if she fought the tingle, she knew he would become rough. He would force his way into her mind.

And Sybill Trelawney would have no one ravage her so intimately. Finally she gave up the search for the not-brandy and flopped back down into her chair. "It's... It's this whole mess, Albus," she said. "I've tried... oh I've tried so many times to do what you've asked. But I cannot remember the prophecy. I can never remember, when I enter such a state. The words..." She put her fingers to her lips and then moved them away as she spoke, "they just come. They flow like... like steam from tea. I have tried everything. Every single divination technique to recall what had been said."

"That," he said at last, summoning a nearby stool upon which to sit across from her, "Is not why I have come this evening."

"Oh?" she straightened up in her chair, just enough to make him believe she was surprised, she was interested. "Oh my what could be more important than Potter?"

"I have noticed you've left the tower on occasion. When you have joined us at meals, you have taken a liking to the werewolf, Mr. Black."

"He is," she started, then realized she must choose her words very carefully now. "Interesting. I have not seen his species of werewolf before this term. He is a rather large, and healthy breed."

Dumbledore nodded, reaching up to stroke his beard. "I had assumed, or rather hoped, that you may have some insight into him. He is difficult to guide. Stubborn. You have such a deep understanding of human nature I had thought you may be able to tell me more about him."

Ah... so that was the heart of the matter then. What had she been able to divine about the young potions master. Oh, yes, she knew quite a lot about the man already. Had even known of his impending arrival. And yet... These secrets she kept closely hidden. Cloaked in the madness she kept so close to the surface of her mind.

"He is... strange. Foreign. He does not know our customs, and as such is having to adapt quickly. He is, I must say, very powerful. Very strong. A weapon of great possibility. One that, if wielded correctly, could make the one who guides him the most powerful wizard in the world."

"That's impossible. He is but a-"

"A what, headmaster? A boy still, compared to you? Is Potter also a source of great power, yet still just a boy? More so than this Mr. Black?"

"Harry is not a weapon. He is a child. One who, I am afraid, has become misguided in his grief."

"But a very powerful child still." She smiled at him, an uneasy one as she felt him trying to probe once more past her facade. "And so is Mr. Black. But he is nothing to worry yourself with. Besides," she looked towards a nearby crystal ball, smartly avoiding eye contact. "There are other shadows lurking about. Stronger than ever before, I fear, now that the Dark Lord has broken yet more followers out of Azkaban. Where before I saw formless possibilities I see now only a dark, poisoned gas. Choking the hope out of the world." She gave him a battier smile. Time to lay it on nice and thick. "On the positive outlook, I no longer feel that young Potter will be killed by the Grim. It seems to have vanished over the summer. Odd, that," she said. "I was so very sure."

She rattled of a few other blatantly incorrect predictions before he left her to her own devices.

Sybill Trelawney made herself a fresh cup of tea, and allowed the adopted persona to melt away once again. She settled back into her favorite chair, and closed her eyes. Allowing her hands to feel the warmth of her drink, letting that warmth soak into her bones, as she relaxed herself. Only when she knew she had reached that peaceful state of contemplation did she dare to close her eyes.

She was, not that she would allow anyone to believe, a rather talented actress. The only skill which exceeded her acting ability was, in fact, that which she had convinced others to believe she could not do at all. The falseness she pushed into her persona, the craziness and the alcoholism she displayed, it was to lend her words a large dose of doubt. To discourage others from believing her. Yet... with just a small amount of truth. This was what kept her safe, here in her tower away from the war. The few prophecies she let slip gave the headmaster the belief that, while wildly inaccurate most of the time, she was worth keeping around. Just in case she had another valuable nugget to offer.

She sat. And she listened. As she did every night for as long as she could remember.

Waiting for the words of wisdom to come.

**o0o**

The four students had passed through the tunnel and neared the end. The long walk had been filled by Blaise explaining to Draco the divide in the House of Slytherin. Those who, in Blaine's opinion, had debased themselves, allowing themselves to become filthy slaves, now outnumbered those who remained neutral.

He told Draco of Pansy Parkinson's scare campaign to prevent anyone lower than a third year from standing up to her. The seventh years had become her private army. And a handful of fourth, fifth, and sixth years had quietly stepped aside.

"All this chaos, because someone tried to kill me?"

"No," Rachel said from behind them. "All this chaos because you said no. You defied the Dark Lord. You upset the balance in the house when you did that. Blaise can barely hold the rest of us together. He manages to keep Parkinson off our backs. But there's so many of them now."

"Nine wands in full," he said. "Some of the Ravenclaw students have also been acting a little funny this year too. But we can't approach them without arousing Parkinson's suspicion."

Draco nodded. "I see. That's why we're meeting with Potter tonight. We give him information on Slytherin, and he will ensure a connection to the other houses for your circle."

Blaise smiled as they at last came to the end of the tunnel. "I like to think of it as a mutiny." He stepped forward, with Zoe moving out of the way, to knock on the large wooden door they had come to. He gave it a pause, then knocked again. When the knock was returned, he gave it a third knock, and then, it was opened.

On either side of the doorway were Gryffindor students, wands raised and ready. Beyond in the light of the room, covered in dust and cobwebs, he saw Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and then... Harry Potter himself.

"Welcome," Luna said with a cheerful smile to the new arrivals as they filed into the room. Blaise stood beside Draco, and the girls flanked them on either side.

"Guys, put the wands away. They're not going to bite," Hermione said from Harry's side.

"What's Malfoy doing here?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "I clearly stated that I would not be coming alone."

Ron narrowed his. "The agreement was for your bodyguards. NOT him," he said, emphasizing the negative while pointing directly at Draco.

"Well, I can see this was a mistake. Come along," Blaise said flatly and turned to go.

Harry was the one to stop them. "Wait."

"And?"

"Malfoy needs to be part of this, too. After all, I'm sure he wants to get to the bottom of who tried to kill him, too."

Draco stiffened as he turned, with his companions, to face Potter again. His eyes narrowed as he inspected every little detail of the other boy sitting in a rickety chair while most others stood.

"We are here, as per your request, Potter. To negotiate terms of alliance as well as the exchange of information. Unless, of course, your real intention was to drag me off to another room while our friends here entertain one another."

Harry's face went red, and he swallowed hard. Draco wanted to smile at his obvious embarrassment. He gave a small cough to cover it up, drawing attention back away from Blaise's bold statement. "Right. Well, let's get started then. I spoke to Zabini after Professor Slughorn's dinner party. He agreed that something was wrong in his house, and was able to confirm that he knew of some students in Slytherin that were NOT junior Death Eaters."

At this, the gathered non-Slytherins could be heard mumbling, many of them doubting their leader's words. But Harry continued.

"He gave me a small list of students that, if questioned or approached outright, will not help us. But he has agreed to act as a bridge for us. They can go where we can't. We can go where they're not welcome. I think it could work."

"Maybe," Ron muttered under his breath as Hermione agreed with Harry. Ginny, though, hovering nearby said nothing. But it was clear she was very unhappy with their presence. Draco watched her curiously; took in all her ticks and gestures; her expressions and her body language. Oh, she was livid indeed.

Draco leaned in to whisper in Blaise's ear, who then turned his attention to the younger Weasley as well. "I have a question for Miss Weasley," Blaise said, choosing to use her name rather than the insult Draco had called her. At the mention of herself, Ginny straightened and turned her eyes towards the Slytherins in their midst.

"Yes?"

"You're fidgeting. Have you any concerns or comments to add to our exchange?"

She cut her eyes to Potter, then Ron and Hermione. Finally, she nodded. "Yes, I most certainly do. After Malfoy's past treatment of many of us, as well as the fact that he nearly got us all expelled last year, I don't think he belongs here. Not with us. Not listening in. And most certainly not in a place to learn who all is in the DA. How do we know he isn't going to turn around, like the coward he is, and spy on us?"

Draco's nostrils flared. He stepped forward, but Blaise put out his arm to stop him at the same moment that Harry stood to his feet. That one action, to an outsider, made it all the more obvious who truly held the power in this situation. The room silenced immediately. He did not need raise his hands, nor his voice, nor his wand. Merely stand in their presence and they were subdued. "Come with me," he said. Ron cast Harry a worried look before opening his mouth, but was cut off by Hermione's quick wandwork.

"You'll only make it worse," she said. "If it had to happen, it's better now instead of later."

Draco did not understand what she meant, but Ron's shaking head and looking away from the door to a side room where, even as this was taking place, Harry had led the Weasley away.

"So," Hermione stepped in where Harry had left off. "Malfoy, is it alright if I explain your presence here for those who do not know?"

"No."

"I'm pretty sure a lot of us are quite confused. I mean, you're-"

"I know who I am, thank you," he sneered. "However, I do not know any one of you well enough to expose my vulnerabilities."

"Typical Slytherin," Ron muttered when he was able to speak again.

"No. A careful man who has had attempts made on his life. If they are meant to know, Potter and I will discuss what will be said, not you."

The room remained uneasy until they heard a shriek from where Harry and Ginny had disappeared. The door burst open. Ginny ran through the room, red faced and teary eyed. Followed by a much more hurt Harry with a red mark across his face. "Ginny wait!" he called after her.

Ron looked from his sister, who was pushing her way through the Slytherins towards the door, and then at Harry. "What did you do?!"

"Nothing!" he replied defensively. Ginny managed to wrench the door open and took off into the dark tunnel. All Harry had to do was give a look to Neville and a pleading sigh to Ron and the two boys were after her, wands raised and lighted with lumos at the tips.

"Harry..." Hermione started, putting a hand on his forearm. "I'm fine," he said soft enough for only her to hear. "It had to be done. I can't have someone acting like that and trust them to have my back. Let alone anyone else's. She'll be fine, in a while."

Draco and Blaise cleared their throats at the same time, drawing attention back to themselves, and the matter at hand. "So... Are we still needed?"

Harry nodded. "Who is your researcher?"

Zoe smiled proudly. "That would be Blaise. Rachel and I are good at sabotage, and of course Draco is an excellent strategist."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched into a smile. Small and fleeting, but Draco's ever observant gaze caught it. "I'm well aware of Malfoy's talents in that regard." He addressed Blaise. "You'll be meeting with Hermione and Luna. If we're seen together it would not be good for you, given your position in your house. Rachel, Zoe, if you wouldn't mind causing a bit of trouble for your housemates on occasion? I can put you into contact with the Weasley twins if you need any help."

At the mention of the twins, both girl's faces lit up with what could only be described as manic glee. "Oh," they said together. "That would be lovely. I've got an idea I wanted to try out," Zoe said. "But I have not had the resources to attempt it. Perhaps they may be able to do something with it."


	13. 12. Weakness

Harry was uneasy after the meeting with Blaise. It was a costly risk, trusting Slytherins. But again, he trusted Malfoy now. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter, considering that the foolish snake had blood bound himself to Harry. Him and that werewolf of his.

His unease was rewarded with pranks the likes of which Hogwarts had not seen since, he suspected, his parents were in school. He felt a swelling of pride each time the girls had done something Weasleyesque. Sirius would have loved it.

In the weeks that followed the meeting Hermione, Luna, and Blaise had deciphered as much of the Sorting Hat's mysterious warning as they could, but found that between the three of them they were still stumped.

Malfoy had been all hiss and little bite. Often disappearing from his map during free periods of the day. And completely at night. Harry attempted to keep an eye on Mr. Black as well, with no success. He simply did not appear on the map... Or rather, not under the now clearly false name he had used to ingratiate himself with Dumbledore and the Order.

And then there was the Slug Club. Oh how Harry hated it. He, Hermione, and Ginny had all been coaxed by Professor Slughorn into attending dinner parties, social meetings, and even private potions demonstrations.

At least, during some of these tedious events, he got to keep an eye on Malfoy's werewolf guardian who, he suspected, was far better at potions than the man he was apprenticed to. The man was one of the few Snape himself did not sneer quite so often at.

It was thoughts of this man that had brought his mind back to Malfoy. And where he must be disappearing to during the days that caused Harry to grab up his cloak and roam the castle late that evening.

He held his map out in front of him beneath the cloak, following the dot that was Draco Malfoy to the fifth floor. He roamed the halls, quiet as a church mouse until at last, he spotted him. Standing and staring at a large, full bodied portrait of a severe looking young woman. They whispered to one another in soft voices. Her harsh face softening as she listened to him. As Harry crept closer, he could just make out the color of her flowing robes. At closer inspection still, he saw she in fact wore a dress and not robes. Bright, brilliant yellow contrasted against the black lace-like trim. She looked to Harry like a giant bee.

He misjudged his step, brushing against a suit of armor and causing the pike it held to fall over.

Draco looked over his shoulder and hissed at the painting. She quickly swung open, revealing the opening behind. Draco hurried inside, and the portrait swung closed with a loud slam against the ancient stonework.

"Who dares follow my young snake here!" the woman in the portrait shouted, her voice angry and shrill as her dress changed to flowing emerald robes with bright yellow trim. Harry backed away, but he saw her turn her head in the painting, her deep blue eyes boring into him beneath the cloak. "I know you're still there. Reveal thyself, knave, or I shall raise the alarms! None will harm the charge in my care and live to tell the tale!"

At this, the armor Harry had brushed against began to move. Quickly Harry turned and ran for it. The clanking and clattering footfalls echoing behind him. He hurried back through the castle, straight to Gryffindor Tower, before he realized the armor was not following him.

**o0o**

Tobias found Draco in the training room. Slashing and hacking away with his wand in a blind anger. He nearly caught Toby's arm in one such screamed attack.

"Oi oi oi! Where's the fire little lord!"

"I was followed!" Draco shouted angrily, a note of fear in his voice. It was the fear that made him so bitter, so angry. A powerful wizard never showed fear. Never gave in to it. Yet he had hidden like a rat hides from a cat.

"No shame in self preservation," Toby said, giving a slight shrug and twirling his wand between his index and middle fingers. "I have news."

At this Draco forced himself to calm. Toby indicated for him to sit at the desk, and conjured up a strange looking bottle full of clear liquid.

This, Draco saw, he opened and drank directly from, then offered to the teen. "Water?"

Draco accepted it, feeling the strange, smooth, clear material beneath his fingers before taking a tentative sip.

"It's called plastic," Toby said as if it were something Draco saw every day. "Anyway, I've got news from the front lines. The Dark Lord's snagged him some giants. And the wolf packs have gotten bigger. He's reaching out towards the east now for all manner of dark creatures. The dragon reserve is on high alert, with their best riders mounting defenses against raids just in case old snake face sets his sights on getting some fire breathing steeds."

"What about here in the castle?" Draco asked eagerly, drinking from the strange bottle again. The water was the best he had tasted. It was also much cleaner and invigorating. "What about my attackers?"

Toby sighed, setting his wand down and looking away towards the shelves of ancient Potter books. "I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

"I was nearly killed! Of course I wouldn't forget-"

"Parkinson was behind it."

"I knew it!"

"Orders from on high. She... she offered herself in your place after your defection. She took the mark willingly. Happily. We knew she was... well, we knew she was a bad egg. We knew she was up to something. But not even I knew how far her mind had gone. It's too soon for her to show these signs. She's too young. Then again, after initiation..." he sighed, shaking his head and muttering. "I'm so sorry... poor girl never stood a chance..."

Draco watched his face. For a few long moments he was so very... sad. Then, his expression hardened and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a white handkerchief. "I found this in her bag the other night when I tailed her.

He dropped what was wrapped in it on the desk. Draco reached out, but his wrist was caught. "Don't. It's cursed. I'm not sure how, or what it even does, but it's bad news. Gives me the willies just being near it."

"That was close... just like when I'd come back here." He looked at Tobias again, still clearly very angry. "I was followed, Tobias."

"Just Potter," he replied with a shrug. "He's curious."

"What?"

He tapped the side of his nose, indicating that he could scent him. "Anyway... your assignment tonight is to reveal the curses on this necklace. We're lucky I found it before she had a chance to give it to the intended recipient. Could have been bad news if you ask me."

"I assume you've already had a try at it?"

"With the more common light magic curse breaking methods, yes. But I need you to practice your dark magic. Especially that which is beneficial rather than harmful." He went to the shelf, selecting a book quickly as if he knew exactly which one Draco would need. "This one by Morwen and Lisander Potter should do. Curse breaking twins of the 15th century. In service to Henry Tudor himself. First employed by Anne of Cleves to protect Princess Elizabeth on a royal progress of the North."

Draco groaned as Toby put the book in front of him. "MORE far too heroic-"

Toby smiled. "Oh, you know, only the most powerful dark lord and lady in history until old leathery snake skin came along. I dare say, more powerful than even him. Who do you think created the Imperius and Cruciatis curses?" Toby gave him a devilish smile. "Certainly not light wizards, I can tell you that much. Pioneers in the study of dark magic theory, the Potters. Always pushing the limits on what is morally acceptable."

Toby left Draco to his task in a state of confusion and disbelief. The wolf chuckled under his breath as he left their rooms, heading for the headmaster's office. There was more to that cursed necklace than he was willing to share with young Draco. Things that only the headmaster really need concern himself with.

After all, ultimately that necklace was meant to land in his old and dying lap.

**o0o**

Harry did not see much of Malfoy after following him that evening. He did take Hermione and Ron up to the fifth floor to show them where Draco had slipped off to. All they found had been blank stone. The armor stood stock still. Nothing inside. No signs that it had ever moved.

"But I'm telling you!" Harry protested Hermione's dismissal. "It followed me at least down to the third floor!"

"Harry, I just don't see it. There's a layer of dust on it four, maybe five inches thick. Nobody comes to this part of the castle-"

"Draco did. I saw him heading this way on the map. I saw him with my own eyes. Right here. And he went behind this painting of a woman with long black hair and a color changing dress!"

"Harry, paintings can't change their appearance. They are paintings. They can move, they can go into other paintings, they can speak and sleep, but they cannot change color."

"But-"

"Am I STILL the only one to ever read Hogwarts: A History? I mean, there's an entire chapter on portraits and paint magic."

She turned to Ron, who shrugged as he inspected the wall Harry had insisted the portrait had been hanging. "Come on 'Mione. You know we've never read it."

She sighed and shook her head as Ron worked on trying to find what Harry had claimed to have seen. With no success. "Look mate," he said. "There's not even a hook or a hole or nothing."

"But-"

"Okay. I have an idea. At the meeting tonight, you tell everyone in the DA what you saw. They can keep an eye out and IF this painting exists, we can ALL help you find it. Okay?"

Reluctantly, Harry agreed. The three of them left the hallway, back they way they had come. Once they were out of sight, the wall rippled. First the silver gilded frame emerged from the stonework. Followed by the painting of the very same woman Harry had seen before. Her form once again bedecked in the bright yellow, black trimmed dress. She swung open to reveal Tobias Black in his apprentice robes. Arms crossed and sniffing the air, scenting the three teens who had just been investigating the wall.

"It seems Potter's not going to give up on this," the painting said with a sly smile. "You should have invited them in."

"You know I can't do that mi'lady. It has to be Draco's decision to see them. I can't force it too soon."

"Or let the moment slip away. It's a delicate thing, influencing time without getting too involved." She gave him a kind smile. "You will have done quite well in my house. You've an amazing capacity for knowledge and how to apply it."

He shook his head and chuckled. "Sorry Rowena," he said. "I'll be a Hufflepuff through and through. Besides, you'll have more fun with the rest of my family."

"If they are anything like young Malfoy, I dare say I may need to reinforce the wards of my training chamber."

He shrugged. "Well, my uncle's not so bad. Slytherin. But my father.... Oh he's going to do your house rather proud. And really get everyone else annoyed at them all, too."

"You're too kind."

Toby smirked, giving her a small salute as he parted ways from her. She receded back into the wall, watching his back as he left. She would have loved to have known him during her lifetime. He was a walking example of inter-house unity.

Once he had left her hallway, knowing she could no longer hear him, Toby sighed. "Too kind," he muttered under his breath. "That's always been my problem."

**o0o**

Harry sat slumped in the chair. His head was killing him. He clenched his fist on the end of the chair's wooden arm. A bit of leather clamped between his teeth as he fought his way through the pain of the latest burning scar episode. This time Voldemort was very angry. The angriest he had ever been. Someone had failed him.

A sickening voice. Bellatrix’s voice. She parroted platitudes and promises to her dark lord as a girl screamed in agony under the Dark Lord's wand.

"Harry," Hermione said, trying to get his attention. "Harry!"

He groaned, clenching his hand harder and biting down on the leather, trying to fight back the wave of pain. Swallow back the bile that rose in his throat.

He felt his head jerked up by Ron. A splash of cold water on his face. The leather was pulled from between his teeth, his mouth held open as Hermione poured a pain potion down his throat. Ron massaged his neck, helping him swallow it down.

The moment passed as the potion took effect, the soothing warmth of it spreading throughout him, causing the pain from the scar to become a blurred, dull ache. "Thank you," he whispered, not wanting to meet their gaze.

To an outsider, he knew such a scene showed not only weakness, but dependence. Both on his friends and on the potion. "I'm sorry I put you two in this position," he said quietly.

Hermione knelt beside him as Ron rubbed the space between Harry's shoulders. "Look. You made us promise not to do that. Not unless it got to be too much. I wish you would reconsider Occlumency, Harry."

He shook his head quickly, his sweaty, wet hair sticking to his forehead and neck. "Never again."

"But-"

"I'd rather put up with Voldemort in my head than go through that again. 'Mione, the things I saw... the things Snape saw... He looked at me after like I was the most disgusting creature he'd ever seen."

Hermione put her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down against her. She looked over Harry's shoulder to Ron when they heard noises on the other side of the door. He gave a nod and did as she silently had asked. Once alone, Hermione pulled away and sat back on her haunches. "You listen to me, Harry Potter. We love you. We will always love you. Even stupid and ridiculously thick Ron, do you hear me. You're our best friend, and we will never let you go back there again."

"I have to."

"No. You don't. Even if you had to, we wouldn't let you. We do what we always do. We find another, better way. Now," she said, summoning a small vial to her hand and then placed it in one of Harry's hands. "You take this. Compose yourself. And give these people the hope they need to keep fighting."

"I don't know if I can."

"You're Harry Potter. Lord, even. We believe in you. And you are never alone. We can do this. Together."

He smiled then. It was strained, but there regardless. "Together," he said, giving a nod. "Go on. I'll be fine in a few minutes. Make sure Ron hasn't hexed our garden snakes."

She chuckled and stood, giving her friend a firm squeeze on the shoulder. "See you out there, Harry." She left him then. Careful not to let anyone see through the door at her friend in his time of weakness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies are in order for the SEVERE delay in this. Long story short, one author quit. Life got in the way. And there was a wedding, a job, and a baby all up in that along with moving and lack of internet for a very long time. So. yeah. There you have it. My piss poor excuse for the delay. However, please take this chapter as my peace offering.  
> Also, the blog for the expanded universe is now on wordpress, as I have left Tumblr because it's become a battle ground of stupidity and bigotry. More news to follow the next chapter.


	14. 13. News

 

Once Granger had appeared, the meeting started in earnest. After making excuses for Potter, she launched into the latest information they had gathered from the different houses, then passed things on to Blaise.

"We feel we have made progress on the sorting hat's message. As you all are well aware, it gives a riddled warning each year since Potter's second year. This time is particularly difficult, as I believe the hat suspects as we do, that there are death eaters already within the castle."

"How much have we got thus far, Blaise?" Hermione asked. He handed over a scrap of parchment. She read it over quickly and gave a nod. "I've come to much the same conclusions."

"Well?" Ron pressed her, trying to see over her shoulder. Hermione ignored him and motioned for Luna to come closer. To her she gave the scrap. "Agreed?" she asked the Ravenclaw girl.

Luna's eyes scanned over the words and she nodded her agreement.

"If you would please?" Hermione asked politely.

Luna cleared her throat and the room fell into a hushed silence of anticipation. "The first line," Luna began, "Is still undecided. The second and third, 'Time for fear and sadness passed. The enemy has an army massed. Shadows long and moons rise high; strength alone cannot get by.' We three feel means that we cannot dwell on those we have lost to this war, because You-know-who has built up an army, and to do so would blind us to the current dangers."

Blaise and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Furthermore," Luna continued. "We feel the third line references the appearance of the new apprentice in Potions." She glanced at Hermione, who gave a nod. Luna drew a deep breath, then-

"Mr. Black is a werewolf. Like Professor Lupin."

All eyes turned to the door of the room where Harry, Hermione, and Ron usually congregated before each meeting. "Harry," Ron said as he made to move to his best friend's side. Harry signaled for him to stay where he was. He went to his customary place, but did not sit. He remained standing, a sign of strength and authority. "The next part, please Luna."

She hesitated, swallowed hard, and then continued. "Well, the next part is obvious I should think," she said. "We cannot rely on strength. We cannot rely solely on Harry to see us through this war."

Hermione took over now, making sure her voice was loud enough to be heard over everyone. "We have to work hard and together. We must look to all of the houses, and play to all of our strengths. Slytherin cunning and ambition. Ravenclaw wit and wisdom. Hufflepuff loyalty and dependability. Couple these things with Gryffindor's strength and bravery and we are an army in our own right."

"Dumbledore's Army!" Neville exclaimed, throwing his fist into the air with enthusiasm.

Harry raised his arms to quell the cheering and whooping that had resulted in Neville's show of loyalty to his comrades. Once the crowd had gotten back under control of themselves, Harry turned to Luna. "Any more progress?"

She nodded. "I think," she replied quietly. "The rest must be spoken of in privacy. I do not know if those involved would like their business spoken of."

"Clearly," remarked a voice at the back of the crowd. "Miss Lovegood has a truly remarkable sense of tact and judgment that you all give her little credit for."

Faces turned, wands were drawn. There in the doorway, the middle of his back between his shoulders pressed against the frame, was Mr. Black. He held his wand between his index fingers. Staring at it as if pondering little more than the color or the shape or the detail work. "Might as well lower those pig stickers, children. I don't bite. Much at any rate." He pushed off the frame and turned, stepping into the crowd of rebels. The group giving a narrow pathway to the chair at their head. He flashed a third year his pearly whites, causing her to gasp in fright as he passed. When he came to the head of the group, to stand before Harry, Hermione, and Ron, Tobias bent a knee. His head down, a show of obvious subordination to any who questioned his presence here among them. "I've word from the front, Potter. News and a request meant for your council, and a warning for your ears alone."

Harry glanced at Hermione, unsure what to do. Ron leaned in to whisper in his ear. Whatever was said caused Harry to turn and glare at Ron in reproach. Nonetheless, Tobias did not yet rise. He would not until given the word by Harry.

At last, giving one more look to Ron, Harry sighed and signaled for him to stand. Yet Tobias remained on his knee. He would not raise his head. He could have at any time. But that was not the point.

The point was a show of power. Of strength and undisputed authority. And an example of pureblood etiquette.

Harry rubbed at his eyes. "Do I have to say it like that?" Harry whispered so only Ron and Hermione could hear him. "Yes," Ron insisted. "You do."

Another sigh, coupled with a groan. Harry raised his hand in the gesture for Tobias to stand. "By command of your liege lord, I bid thee stand, Lord Black."

Now Toby stood. Grinning from ear to ear. "We'll make a proper wizard lord of you yet, Potter. Until then, these little impromptu lessons will have to make due." He looked around for the door to the back room. "Come. Lovegood, you too. A few snakes will be along in a minute."

He strode past the three friends, bold as he pleased as if he owned the old shack. Inside the room, he found a chair and sat to wait. The four students trickled in, Luna first. Then Ron. Harry. And Hermione last. She closed the door behind her.

"What was all that about?!" Harry demanded of him angrily. But it was a hollow anger. He just couldn't summon up enough energy to be properly enraged.

"Parkinson led the attack on Malfoy."

That was not what any of them had been expecting. In their momentary surprise, he continued. "She also bears the mark. But it is charmed to hide it from prying eyes using a similar charm to the Map. I daresay that not even the old headmaster would be able to see it."

"And you have?" Ron challenged.

Tobias tapped the side of his nose. He leaned back in the chair and crossed his long legs. The wand was laid on the arm of the chair and a hand rested over it. The other lay in his lap. "I can smell the stink of it on her. The Dark Lord's touch has a specific... odor to it. Death. Decay. Harry's smelled it, haven't you my lord?"

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Then, "Is she behind the recent string of accidents surrounding the headmaster?"

Tobias nodded. "Yes. I have been following her. As the wolf she thinks I am one of Fenrir's pack, sent to watch over her. She does not yet know who I truly am."

"Keep it that way. And distance yourself."

"As you wish." Tobias looked to Ron now. His silver eyes deepening with worry. "Write to your mother. And your brothers. Do not use your owl, nor Harry's. I have arranged for you to use Hestia, Blaise Zabini's owl, to do so. Parkinson has set up watch on the tower, and messages are intercepted. However, those belonging to Slytherin students are not being watched and tracked."

Ron looked to Hermione. "Is something-"

"Nothing is wrong. Only that... Well, I feel you would not like your mail intercepted should you attempt to describe awkward feelings to your brothers and seek advice on how to woo your lady love. Again."

His cheeks burned nearly as bright as his hair. He opened his mouth, but couldn't get the words out. Tobias laughed, and Hermione's cheeks tinged pink.

Luna smiled. "I think the puppy wants to ask us something, but doesn't know how to say it."

Harry watched him, eyes narrowed as if he may pull it from his unwanted servant's mind. He had a sense that he would not like what he heard.

"There are some among your soldiers who have the potential to be something great. There are five partial Veela, nine animagi, and a half drake in the very next room. They are all reaching the age when their gifts will manifest. I wish to teach them to utilize these gifts and form a special regiment. As others are found to be possessing these singular abilities, I will absorb them into the group."

"What makes you feel you’re qualified to-" Hermione began.

Luna interrupted, stepping closer and taking Tobias's hand and lifting it from his wand. Her smile faded. Her face softened. She looked from the piece of wood laying there for her to see. Her gaze turned to his face. To his hair, his skin, his eyes. She frowned. "I see..." she whispered, then turned to Harry. "He has seen the powers of the toad. He knows what lies ahead. If ever he were sincere in his intentions, now he bares his heart for all to see. He is friend, not foe."

Hermione whispered to herself, then repeated louder. The first line of the Sorting Hat's warning. " _'Friend or foe you'll know for naught until creatures found are proper taught.'_ You're a creature. You think you can help the kids who are going to turn into one."

He nodded. "I am a werewolf. I do not deny it. My heightened senses give me the ability to track and locate those of non-human ancestry. But I am so much more than this. My mother," he said, hoping the half-truth was not written on his face. He knew even now Harry Potter was more perceptive than he had seemed. Luna, he knew, would see right though him. But she had enough sense to keep quiet on delicate matters. A blessing really. "My mother was a creature. A very rare, very.... special creature. One of only a small number in the world, and even among them, a strange and wondrous thing. And because of this, my mother lived in exile for so many years. Unable to speak of the hereditary shame being such a thing was. Alone and miserable until my muggle father came along and at last my mother found a mate."

Hermione's gaze softened. Harry, Tobias noticed, was deep in thought. Ron on the other hand was watching him closely. Eyes narrowed in suspicion. Though the Weasley clan were well known to be blood traitors, the lot of them. They were still pureblood. Very old, very deeply rooted in the wizard world. And even in the most friendliest of families, the old and ancient disgust and revulsion of creature kind could still be found.

It was Hermione who spoke next. And Tobias turned a kind ear to her. Yet he did not take his eyes off Ron, and studied him closely. The boy was conflicted. He knew a werewolf, Remus. He knew a giant. He knew a half giant. He knew of the centuars. Had been taught by one, actually. And Veela. Oh he knew about the Veela all right. His soon to be sister-in-law was one of them. Now presented with the fact that fellow students, members of Dumbledore's Army no less, were also of creature stock... He struggled between the innate revulsion all wizarding folk feel towards the creature kind, and the acceptance of his friends and loved ones who had shown that not all creatures were vile and filthy things.

It took only seconds for Tobias to pull this information, all the while Hermione had no idea the inner workings of her future husband's mind in this moment. Instead, she was focused on Tobias. "What... before you were bitten, were you-"

"No. But my older brother... he was one. Like our mother. But I carry the hereditary trait. Somewhere down the years, a descendant of mine will likely meet a wizard or witch with the same trait, the same species, and their child will become one when he or she comes of age. What I carry inside me, it's dependent of a mixture of wizard and muggle blood. An ancient creature so mysterious none can really be certain as to how it came to mingle with both magical and non-magical beings." He shook his head and refocused on Harry. "I request to train these children in the ways of their wild magic. To learn how to control the creatures within so that they may better understand their magic and protect themselves. I'm sure Neville Longbottom would like to finally have some answers about why his magic is so unpredictable."

At this Ron's face went pale, making his red hair all the more brilliant by contrast. Harry's eyes widened, and Hermione gasped in surprise. Luna, quiet all the while, gave a knowing smile to Tobias. "I think," she said. "I think he should do it. Think about it Harry. You-know-who has all manner of dark beasts in his thrall. Wild magic is so powerful that it can easily overcome mere wand based spells. If he can teach them how to control it, we may stand a better chance when the moment comes to face off against the shadow monsters."

Hermione glanced at Luna in surprise. "For the first time ever, I do believe I actually understood everything she just said."

Harry rubbed his chin, then motioned for his friends to step aside with him.

Tobias watched as the four of them huddled together. Their heads bent save for when one of them would glance back at him. Voices a hushed whisper, careful to obscure their words so that the werewolf would not understand them. Then, at last, Harry came to him. He offered his hand. Tobias shook it.

"We have a deal?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "We have a deal. Give Luna a list of the students, that way we know who they are. She can easily go around to the different houses and let each one know to meet you for training."

"As you command, oh fearless leader."

Harry smirked. "Now what's this about a warning for me?"

He would not speak. Not with the others so close by. Realizing this, Harry sent them away. Once the door was closed, Tobias silently raised wards on the room. Silencing spells and confounding enchantments. Harry bristled under the silent spellwork. Unused to such power being thrown about so easily and without proper care.

"Speak," he snapped.

Tobias nodded. He picked up his wand at last and looked it over. Tracing the familiar design he had carved himself with his eyes. Reminding himself that he could not interfere too terribly much. But if he didn't... If he didn't warn his grandmother, then all might just be lost.

"Another attempt will be made on the headmaster's life. Very soon, close to Christmas. I do not know how, or any more exact timing than that. It will fail, of course. But you need to be careful who you trust from this moment forward."

"Parkinson?"

"No. But she has become very good at casting the Imperius curse. So good, in fact, that she may be able to ensnare even a well known or respected professor. Be on your guard, Lord Potter."

Harry considered this, but could not think much further as Tobias rose and lowered the charms and enchantments. "Meet me tomorrow night in the hall where they used to keep Fluffy in your first year. I have a surprise for you, my lord. One you may find rather enlightening, if not amusing."

With that, Tobias left him. He did not need to look behind to feel Harry's penetrating, irritated gaze in his back. "Oh, and Potter. You may bring Hermione. Leave the Weasel behind."

**o0o**

Harry had watched the map. Watched the dots that were Draco Malfoy and, he believed, to be Mr. Black. He had watched them all day, with Ron commenting that he was becoming obsessed with Malfoy. It was this remark in Transfiguration class that caused him to put the map away for a little while.

During lunch, Hermione had begged off to go to the library and meet with Luna and Blaise for more research. Harry gave Ron and Ginny the slip to join her.

Harry found them, hidden in a corner huddled together. Blaise sitting in the darkest part of the corner with Luna and Hermione scribbling away. Stacks of books further obscuring Blaise from prying eyes.

"The Forest King approaches," Luna said dreamily without looking up. "He seeks the Wise-woman, but which witch does he seek?"

Harry gave a small smile as slid into the seat next to her. Hermione instantly threw up a silencing charm to bubble in their words. "Since we got the information on some of the others being creatures, more of this is making sense. We can't be completely sure just yet, but when we have a solid answer, we'll let you know as soon as possible."

"Thanks 'Mione. Speckles."

Blaise gave a nod as he continued to read.

"About the... disappearing portrait thing," Hermione continued, looking to Blaise. "We've been looking into that as well. How could we not after what happened in second year."

"The Chamber," Luna said softly.

"Yeah. I was wondering about that myself... If Slytherin had a secret chamber in the school, who's to say the other founders didn't have secret rooms as well."

"Precisely." Blaise laid the book he had been reading down on the table, pointing out a passage about the founders themselves. "I received this from my mother yesterday when I inquired about this very idea."

Harry skimmed through the passage, then read on further. It was an entry in a diary. Who's diary, he didn't know. But it was obvious it had been a student of Hogwarts, given the mention of a magical room that changed it's appearance all of the time. "I believe," Blaise began. "You are familiar with that room, Potter. You and your followers used it last year for your secret training."

The use of the word followers made Harry uneasy. Blaise saw this, but made no effort to change his words. Harry instead continued to skim through, until he read another passage. A description of the Chamber. How...

"When was this written?" he asked.

"Three hundred years ago, give or take a decade," the Slytherin replied. "It was my belief that Salazar's chamber had been hidden until you had bumbled your way into it."

"So had we," Hermione said. "But apparently we were wrong."

Harry read that passage closer, only to discover the person who had written it had been bound by a wizard's oath never to reveal the location of the chamber's entrance. That did not stop them from describing in great detail all that they had seen inside it. "I wonder... who made them swear that oath," Blaise commented as Harry read on. Once he was through with the passage of the chamber, he continued his skimming. Blaise continued his commentary. "Presumably, if Helga Hufflepuff created the Come and Go room, and Salazar Slytherin created the Chamber of Secrets, then surely Ravenclaw and Gryffindor also had hidden chambers in this castle."

"Hufflepuff?!" Hermione exclaimed, receiving a shush from Madame Pince across the library. She lowered her voice. "The Room of Requirement is-"

"Of course. A room that caters to every need and whim, no matter how grand or utterly mundane. A practical space that can be put to any use. Like a Hufflepuff. Practical, hardworking, and the house that accepts anyone and anything into it regardless of desires, ambitions, curiosities, or even stupidly dangerous bravery. A room that reflects it's creator. Accepting of all who have need. A willingness to accommodate those needs.

"By that same logic," Blaise continued quietly. "Slytherin sought power. Supreme segregation from the muggles and muggleborn. A place to hide his secrets where those he deemed inferior would never find them. I imagine to locate the remaining secret rooms, one must consider their creators. Ravenclaw valued wit and wisdom. She must have had a place in which she could seek solitude for meditation and study. Gryffindor favored courage and bravery above all else. But he was also seen as the leader of the four. Therefore... Perhaps the headmaster's office is the key." He lapsed into silence, taking the book back and bowing his head in concentration. Harry could hear the scribbling of quill against parchment and Blaise mumbling to himself on the matter.

Hermione left him to it, as Luna offered soft whispers of input to his musings. The two of them otherwise occupied, she turned her attention to Harry. "You know you can't be here much longer, not with Blaise sitting here, too. What's going on?"

"Last night, remember what Mr. Black said about the other students?"

She nodded. "Yes, I've thought about that. I spoke with Luna, and a little with Ron about it. From what I gather, when a wizard or witch receives a creature inheritance, they are generally shunned by society. Unless, of course, they become one of the more desirable creatures like a Veela, or a High Elf. It's quite... sad. I think we should let him do it. Find them and teach them to protect themselves. With people like Umbridge in the world, and V...Vol... Voldemort," she forced herself to say his name. "They need to know how to use their powers. Otherwise, they'll be sheep for slaughter."

Harry gave his agreement. Then, brought up what she had been dying to know. What had Mr. Black spoken to him about afterward in private. "He said I could bring you with me. I think that's the best idea he's ever had."

"I'll tell Ron-"

"No. We can't tell Ron. I think... I think whatever he wants me to see or know, Ron might be a problem."

"Possibly it's to do with Malfoy."

"Maybe. Come with?"

She smiled and reached across the table to place a hand on his. "Of course Harry. And what about... do you still have the shakes? How did you sleep last night?"

"Still a little... off. But otherwise I'm okay. Tired, and sore mostly. I slept alright."

The pair of them spoke quietly of other matters, less important matters, before Harry excused himself with Luna, wanting to get a bite to eat before the lunch period was over.

As Harry and Luna made their way back to the great hall, Harry could have sworn he saw that woman watching him from her portrait in a nook. But when he glanced back at it, the giant bumble bee woman was gone. "Did you see-"

"Buzz buzz said the honeybee," Luna said, linking arms with him. "Careful not to stir the hive, Harry. Otherwise you might disturb the queen and her drones. Wouldn't want to make an angry swarm now, would you?" she asked, pulling him along and reminding him of his grumbling stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect about 2 days after this update for another chapter. And then one more chapter is planned for about 2 days AFTER Christmas.  
> The NEW blog for the expanded universe of the Sherlock!Wizardverse can be found on Wordpress.  
> [Sherlock!Wizardverse Expanded Universe](http://sherlockmalfoy.wordpress.com)


	15. 14. Overdosed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new blog for the fanfic is found over at Wordpress, as Tumblr became a toxic environment for the writer.  
> http://sherlockmalfoy.wordpress.com  
> It's under construction, but you can find most of the goodies on the Table of Contents page.

 

It had been quite difficult to evade Ron. Harry had attempted to wait him out in the common room. But when it was obvious he wasn't going to sleep when Harry would have liked, he was forced to feign sleep.

The Gryffindor Golden Boy hated doing it. Ron was his best friend. His first friend... Then again, that had nearly not been the case.

He'd shaken these thoughts out of his head before. He could do it again. At last, Ron had come upstairs and, after eating enough cauldron cakes snuck out from dinner, he fell asleep with a bed full of crumbs.

Once Harry was certain the other boys were all asleep, he climbed out of bed and grabbed up his cloak from where he had hidden it beneath his mattress. Quickly, he was dressed and waiting in the common room for Hermione.

"Map?"

"Right here," Harry said as he pat his pocket. It was folded up for the moment.

Hermione took the cloak from him and draped it over them both. The pair stood very close together. Had Ron been with them the cloak would have just barely shown their shoes.

The pair of them did one final check. Harry removed the map and unfolded it, checking for Filch and his filthy mongrel of a cat, Mrs. Norris. When they saw it was clear, they left Gryffindor Tower and headed for the third floor. Hermione did not like the fact they were about to revisit Fluffy's chamber.

**o0o**

Draco could hear raised voices on the other side of the portrait. But his werewolf guardian had told him to stay inside no matter what he heard. Apparently, he had expected it to get rather... nasty.

Outside, Rowena Ravenclaw remained hidden behind the tapestry, unwilling to allow herself to be seen. She had taken to hiding behind other paintings and hangings recently since that Potter boy had started taking notice of her. This had the added effect of certain school staff members losing track of her whereabouts as well.

All the better to keep her charges safe and secret in her opinion.

On the other side of the tapestry where she currently hid, three men and an older woman were having a shouting match. Tobias Black stood with his wand tucked up his robe sleeve. His hands out where they could be seen as non-threatening. That did not, however, appease the Headmaster.

"You knew of this necklace and did not bring it forth in evidence!" Professor McGonogall insisted. "You allowed a child to attempt to break the curses upon it without supervision. Young Mr. Malfoy could have been injured, or worse, killed!"

"I'm well aware of that, deputy headmistress. But the only alternatives were to hand it over, and risk the curses activating once Professor Dumbledore touched it, or hand it over to Severus for further inspection. Upon which he would be placed into the predicament of again handing it over to Dumbledore in order to maintain the illusion of a double agent. No. This particular situation, I made a decision and I'm standing by it."

Silver eyes narrowed as he breathed in deep. His nostrils flaring. To an outside observer, though not Dumbledore if he happened to be paying close attention to the werewolf, this was merely a visual representation of his frustration. Adrenaline pumping through his body as a result of the confrontation. However, this was not the case. He scented the air, tasting in the back of his throat that familiar musk he had known since childhood.

Potter had arrived. Now was the time for his trump card. Now was the time for him to shed some more light on Dumbledore's machinations. "But that's not why you're so upset."

He felt the tingles from his left recede. Snape had stopped attempting his silent legillimens. Dumbledore, however, was yet to give up. "Here we have the Headmaster. The enemy of the dark, champion of muggleborn rights, and most honorable member of the Order of Merlin. Leader of all that is right and good. General of the wizards of the light... And his right hand gal. The most loyal of your subordinates. Here to witness you. Here to watch as you prove yet again you know what is best and right and true." He cut his silver eyes to Snape briefly. "And you. Caught in the middle because of what? Love? No. Not for a long time now. Love is what caused you to turn your back on the Dark Lord. But now... Now it's regret. Regret that you missed your chance. Resentment. Because you feel He should have been yours. You're here because you are the dark arts expert. I am a known and self confessed dark wizard. Your hands are covered in blood already. What's another wizard in the name of all that is good and right.

"All because," he turned his attention back fully to Dumbledore. "I refuse to give up their names. Names of children who you would train and send to slaughter. Shape into weapons for your bitter war. You wish to chain the creatures to you. Bind them to you and force them to fight for you. And what of those who refuse, Headmaster? That's right, they spend 12 years in Azkaban, slowly going mad. Slowly losing themselves because they dared question you. Dared say no more."

On the other side of the portrait, hidden from view, Draco frowned. His ear was pressed against the back of the painting as he strained to hear what was being said. He suddenly heard raised voices again. Angrier. Louder. He could distinctly hear Tobias's voice cry out in Latin.

Then, quickly, the portrait swung open. An invisible force slammed into Draco, throwing him back with Tobias cackling evilly as Rowena Ravenclaw slammed closed behind him.

On the other side, Albus Dumbledore threw aside the tapestry, hands roaming the stonework in frustration. He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it against the cold hard stone. The portrait, and the infuriating werewolf, were gone.

"Albus?" Minerva McGonogall said, her voice confused and unsure. "What in the name of Merlin was that?"

Snape groaned, a hand to head as he felt a lightheaded doziness settle over him. It seemed, to Severus Snape, that a great storm cloud had lifted and he was at last allowed to see the light of day once again after 16 long and terrible years of darkness.

**o0o**

Harry and Hermione threw off the cloak. Draco stood with his wand raised, pointed at the intruders to his chambers. Tobias was still cackling, holding his sides. "That'll keep old beard face busy for a while."

"What was that about!" Draco and Hermione both demanded of him in unison.

"Whoa... stereo," Tobias commented between gasps of breath and laughter. "Now then. Potter, Granger, welcome to our humble abode. Draco do be a dear and lower your wand. We're not killing lions today."

Draco lowered his wand, but did not put it away. Instead he wrinkled his nose and ignored them. "If that will be all, I have more work to do."

"Yes yes. Go on. I'll be along shortly to check your progress." Once Draco had disappeared into an opening in the wall, the stonework closing behind him, Tobias indicated the chairs of their shared rooms. "Please, sit. You are our honored guests."

Hermione looked to Harry, who shrugged and picked out the chair closest to the room's fireplace. Tobias transfigured a few mundane items into a china tea set and a hot pot of tea. "Here you go," he said after severely sweetening Harry's cup. Then he turned his questioning gaze to Hermione. "Three?"

"One," she said, seating herself uneasily in a chair beside Harry. "Please."

"Of course." He fixed her tea and set it out for her, then fixed a cup for himself. The fourth remained upside down, waiting for Draco to join them, despite his unwillingness to even remain in the same room as the Gryffindors.

When he was sure the two of them were settled, but saw neither wanted to speak first, he sighed. Toby took one sip of his tea, then set it aside. "Firstly, that was not what I had intended for the pair of you to see. However, since it happened, I turned it into an opportunity to divulge information. Or rather, present the opportunity for questioning motives and previously held truths."

He watched Harry closely. His furrowed brow as he thought, unwilling to look to either of them. But not willing to look to the fire. Perhaps he expected to see a face there looking back at him. Familiar. Friendly. Full of what little love its owner had left with his sanity. "Firstly," Toby said as he continued. "I am dearly sorry for having brought up your godfather. But there are so many questions you should be asking. Should have asked. But never thought to do so."

"I thought about it," Harry said. "Over the summer. Some things didn't make sense. But when I had the opportunity to ask-"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in sudden realization. "Oh Harry, I can't believe we didn't see it before!"

"See what?"

She set her tea down and turned in her chair to fully face him. "Harry, we've been put under coercion spells. All of us! You know how Ron and I are. Even when we're told not to do something, what's the first thing we do?"

Harry thought on this. "Like when you both wanted to write to me, and tell me what was going on... But you were told not to."

"By Dumbledore. You've seen it yourself, Harry. How many times has Snape wanted to tear into you, only to be held back by a single word from Dumbledore? Or how about Sirius. He had ways of hiding. Ways of hiding and keeping his freedom. Do you really thing he would voluntarily be under house arrest in his own home? Voluntarily give up what little freedom he had for the first time in 12 years?"

Tobias watched the pair of them as they hashed it out. Each of them finding instances in their past interactions with and without the headmaster present. Picking up the subtle differences in their own behaviors and attitudes. More and more Harry was getting angry. He could see it in the young man's face.

"What's more," Hermione said. "Last year, when the Headmaster pretty much ignored you, even though you desperately needed his help and guidance to deal with... Well..."

"Just say it. I have Lord Voldemort in my head."

"Please do not say that name again," Tobias said, finally interjecting his comments.

"I'm not afraid," Harry insisted. "It's just a name. To fear even just his name is-"

"It's more than a name. It's a spell, you nitwit. Who in their right mind is afraid of a name? It's what comes AFTER it that they are all afraid of."

"What?" Hermione squeaked.

"His name. He has woven it together with a locator spell. Anyone who says his name, and says it correctly, is instantly identified. It does not matter the wards, the spells, the protections. He may not be able to get in to you, but he knows where you are. Sometimes, depending on other factors, such as your little... connection, he knows what you're doing at the time as well." Tobias shook his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. A posture he knew his father often took when thinking. When puzzling out difficult problems and searching for a solution. Something was odd about that, too.

How could Harry have such an intimate connection to the Dark Lord?

Harry's expression became hard. Hermione's defensive.

"Oh please, you don't think I know why Snape is meant to be teaching Harry Occlumency?" He waved his hand dismissively as he returned quickly to his thoughts. Briefly, processing the information available, he frowned. "Your scar. Describe it to me."

"Everyone knows-"

"Then tell me what nobody knows. Don't tell me what it looks like. How you got it. Tell me what it does. What it represents. The man marked you as his equal. That has to mean something more than a silly lightning bolt."

"It's just a curse scar."

"No. It burns, doesn't it? And no matter how hard you try to keep him out, he still gets in. Taunting you. Trying to bait you into turning, doesn't he?"

Harry was silent. Tobias didn't need to recall his family history to know that Harry was numb. Harry was, for lack of a better term, stoned. He hadn't been sleeping well, due to the Dark Lord's influences through the connection they shared. He also had become addicted to Dreamless Sleep potion. To function day to day, he took pain potions to keep him in a state of numbness. He couldn't finish grieving, because he simply no longer cared. Coupled with the coercion and persuasion charms and spells used on him regularly. Reinforced with potions to make him more suggestible, more malleable...

"That son of a whore!" Tobias spat suddenly as he made the final connection in his mind's eye. His outburst had startled the teens, further causing them alarm when he jumped to his feet. "Draco! Draco come quickly!"

Tobias was moving faster than Hermione could keep track. She and Harry had risen, but with the wave of a hand, they found their feet to be stuck fast. "DRACO!" he shouted. The wall opened, a different side this time, Hermione noticed. The teen stood there, breathless and quite disheveled. "What?!" he snapped in annoyance.

"Fetch me Sister Flora's Charm Companion, then fire-call Snape at once!"

"What-"

"Potter's been drugged and put under a very powerful curse. Now DO IT!" He turned wild silver eyes to Hermione as Draco scurried about. "If you value your friend's life, you will not stop what must be done. First, we must know exactly the potions Harry has taken. Then," he held out his hand to take the book when Draco brought it to him. "We must identify the curse he is under."

Tobias flipped through the book quickly, scanning each page and taking in the information. He knew there was one in here that would work. One gentle enough not to conflict with the things already done to Harry, but also powerful enough to allow him to do what he needed to do.

"He wants to know why you called him!" Draco shouted over his shoulder.

"Tell him Sister Flora page.... Page 293! He'll know what it means!"

Hermione looked past Tobias briefly to see Draco bent over before the fireplace. Harry struggled to get free. More angry than anything. Hermione picked up on his anger, feeding off it herself.

Tobias turned a deaf ear to them both, reinforcing the foot binding hex he placed by initiating the full body bind jinx. The fireplace flared and out stepped Professor Snape, robes billowing behind him.

"No time for dramatics, Severus old boy. We've got to detox Potter, and likely Granger as well. They're just feeling the effects of my counter spell. No doubt you are as well."

Snape cut his eyes over to a frozen Potter and Granger. "293 you say?"

Tobias offered the book. "I believe you are familiar with this particular scenario?"

"Indeed I am. Are you sure you wish to go through with this?"

He nodded. "If I don't, then by the time he's facing the Dark Lord Potter will be little more than an Inferi at the headmaster's command."

Snape considered this briefly, frowning. "Potter will need an anchor. Someone to keep him tethered to this world."

"Granger-"

"No. She is too close. I have seen things in this boy's mind, Black. She would not come away unscathed."

"Then who do you suggest we use?"

"Someone who elicits a very powerful emotion. But one who has also seen the horrors that lurk in the dark."

The two men stared one another in the eye. A silent battle of wills. Tobias not wanting to risk it. Snape insisting there was no other way. At last, the two men turned their attention to Draco Malfoy. The boy who had nothing more to lose, but everything to gain.

"For the record, I am not comfortable with this."

"Needs must. And we mustn't allow the headmaster to continue this dangerous game."

As the two men hashed out what to do next, Hermione listened. She could do little else. Her rational mind, clouded and foggy began to pick through the mists that shrouded it. The rest of her wanted to panic. She'd led Harry into a trap. Dark wizards were going to kill them. The two thoughts warred in her mind, and all she could think to do was scream for help.

But she could not. Her body frozen, her face locked in place. Her voice... silenced.

But Harry... Oh God what Harry must be thinking...

If her eyes could widen, they would have done so when the two men pointed their wands at them and spoke in unison.

_**"Soporis."** _

For Hermione Granger the world went black all too quickly. Then, it became a sort of fuzzy warm pink where she really did not give two newt's feet about much of anything at all.

For the first time since becoming a witch, she felt quite at peace with the world.

**o0o**

Snape stormed into the room, not even stopping to acknowledge the teen standing at a bookshelf going through every moldy tome he could lay his hands on. Attempting to find the answers they so desperately sought.

"It's been nearly a week! People are growing suspicious!" he snarled angrily at the werewolf standing at the table full of strange tubes and equipment. "The lions and the badgers are getting restless. And the headmaster is furious! I cannot hold him off much longer, Black. We need to wake Potter and Granger NOW!"

Tobias removed the strange spectacles from his face and let them rest in his hair. Held on by a length of rubber behind his head. "Listen you oversized fruitbat! I'm doing the very best that I possibly can with what little I have available! But I cannot trace the last element of the last potion we detected. It's something I have never come across before in my entire life. And trust me, I've seen some really weird shit Snape."

Draco listened to the men argue, relegating the sound to background noise as he hunted for the right book. He knew there had to be something in one of the old Potter books. Somewhere, somehow. If only he could find the one he'd read before. The one with the muggle medicines...

Then, it hit him. He knew the book he was looking for. He couldn't recall the title. However, he did know the name of the person who had made annotations in the margins. That may help to narrow it down for him. Inspired, he called out into the room. "Accio Hadrian Seven's Notes."

Several volumes flew off the shelves. One of which narrowly missed his godfather's greasy head. Snape turned towards Draco. Brows raised as the boy caught one of the books, the others landing at his feet. He noted... there was no wand in the boy's hand.

"Impressive," Snape commented.

"Quite. Once I started chipping away at him, Lucius's binding spells cracked and splintered. There's hardly any trace of them left now."

"That is a dangerous move, Black. Do you know what Draco's magic is capable of."

He smiled knowingly. "Oh yes. That is exactly what I am counting on."

"You do realize that once he becomes of age, it may drive him insane. He is a Black. Not even the most stable of them can handle those gifts."

Tobias nodded, recalling similar conversations he had once had with his parents. A conversation he had, so long ago as a teenager, with Draco the day his older brother Hamish had come into his inheritance. The burden of intelligence. The burden of observation. Heightened cognitive faculties. The drive, the psychological need to keep working. To keep busy. To silence the voices that accompanied the gift of brilliance.

This is where, he realized, the curse that had plagued the Blacks for so many centuries had become a treasured, if annoying, gift. This is where the legacy of the Holmes line truly began. With one teenager, a talking fruitbat, and a time displaced werewolf. "Potter," Tobias said at last. "Isn't the only one in need of an anchor. Draco will get through it. The human mind is a remarkable thing, Severus. So long as we find something, anything to keep Draco's engaged during the process, there may yet be hope for him and his sanity."

Draco's shout caused both men to turn their full attention back to him and the task at hand. He rushed to the table where Tobias worked and Snape had stopped to argue. He slammed the open volume down on the table, causing the glass tubes and vials of liquid to shake and clatter. Tobias cringed, half expecting his delicate work to explode at the intrusion.

"Here. This book, you had me read it. I think this might be what we're missing. It's a muggle medicine, used for pills, potions and teas."

Snape's face went even more pale than it's standard sickly pallor, causing Draco's brow to furrow. Tobias read the words, frowning deeper and deeper in concern. "Are you sure?"

"I have watched Potter every day for nearly six years. This is the only thing that fits. And when combined with the other ingredients you've uncovered, it must be the answer."

Tobias sighed and took off his goggles, laying them on the table beside the book and his notes. "Severus, answer me this, and answer honestly. Did the headmaster have you make potions specifically for Potter?"

"He has requested only once, when Potter had slipped into the week's comatose state during the end of his first year. Fortunately, I had the potion in my stores, and did not need to make more."

"And what was it for?"

"A simple drought to wake him."

"What was the effect of this drought?"

"The opposite of the intended usage... Given that until very recently I did not know I had been under a powerful coercion spell, I did not question the effects greatly at the time. I had accepted the explanation that Potter's condition had been worse than we had feared and that my potion simply was not strong enough to stir him."

Tobias nodded. "Or, perhaps, it had been. But someone else got to the vial first. How soon after Potter was brought to the infirmary was it administered?"

Draco watched his godfather's face as the worry lines deepened. It was not hard to figure out what Tobias was driving at. Indeed, when Potter returned in second year, he was both happy to be back at school but also subdued. The wonder of the wizarding world did not lose it's appeal, but he did seem to be more easily angered. More easily guided...

"Within hours."

Toby glanced at the book Draco had brought over. He examined his notes, and compared them. Coupled with what information the three of them had based on Draco's yearly observations, there was no doubt left in any of their minds as to what had happened at the close of Harry Potter's first year of school.

"Can you create an antidote for the cocktail the headmaster's given him?"

"It will take time. Time and I am afraid a will of steel. He is going to be in much pain as it leaves his body. He will become sick, possibly violent given his particular circumstances." But in the end, Snape nodded his agreement, requesting specific equipment. Tobias assured him it would be within the chambers no less than 24 hours.

Draco glanced back to his bedroom, where they were keeping the unconscious bodies of Potter and Granger. "We will need to get the weasel as well. Granger, if my suspicions are correct, has also been dosed. To a much lesser degree, of course, but she still shows some of the milder symptoms. Whereas in Weasley, it seems to exaggerate certain unsavory parts of his personality."

Tobias nodded. "I'm afraid what Weasley has been dosed with is a bit trickier. Potter and Granger have been overdosed with opium. Weasley on the other hand, I fear, has been fed a steady diet of a certain 7 percent solution with his morning pumpkin juice."

**o0o**

High up in her tower, Madame Trelawney stood before an empty frame. It seemed to stand right on the floor of her private sleeping quarters. Nestled in a hidden corner just out of perception. But she knew it was there. Had always known. That frame was part of the reason she had requested her chambers and classroom be in this high tower. Because it held a most precious thing. Hidden in plain sight.

"Godric," she said, glancing back to the cards laid out on her bedspread. Doom for the Potter boy, as always. But still a chance. Slim, but new and exciting. The combination of the Moon and the Lovers had never presented itself... Perhaps... not in recent years. It had made her smile, sadly, as is the way with her predictions centering around Potter.

"Godric," she called again.

Now a figure moved to stand in the frame. Unlike any other likeness and description, this frame held the true identity of the founder known as Godric Gryffindor. All others, scattered about the castle, had been imposters. All charged with one purpose. To protect the secrets of Hogwarts. To keep those who sought power for power's sake at bay, and prevent them from discovering what she herself had been allowed to freely utilize.

There stood the fourth founder, resplendent in his crimson and golden hued robes. Robes that had been painted open to expose the golden breast plate and dark red breeches beneath. His hair wild and golden, with just a hint of gray. His eyes, though she knew to be only an imitation of life, stared at her as if the painting itself held the man's very soul. The variegated iris of deep dark blue bands in a lighter field of storm gray.

"Your prophesy is finally coming to fruition?," the man in the painting said, and she swore his chest rose with breath. His nostrils flared slightly with his speech. At her nod, he smiled. One she had seen frequently outside her tower in recent months. "I see. Well then, it's time to dust off my chambers and give these children a fighting chance at last. Shrink me down and take me to them. It has been quite a while since I have seen the outside of this tower. I've a mind to visit dear Rowena."


	16. 15. Dreamscapes

 

It had been two days since they had uncovered what had happened to the oft called Golden Trio. Severus had reported, when last he slipped away, that news and evidence of Potter's defection had surfaced. Coupled with Draco's apparent mastery of a variety of dark art manipulation spells.

"Apparently," Draco reported to the sleeping Potter as he arranged the cots Tobias had brought for them. "I have somehow ensnared you for the Dark Lord, and have turned you to my wicked ways. Your not-betrothed has been claiming to have seen me put you under a numerous amount of love spells and fed you poisons."

Draco fluffed the pillow that was to be his own. Then adjusted the sheets on the cot meant for his guardian. "Granger on the other hand, has been placed under the Imperius curse, which was quite easy to do since she is of inferior, muggle stock. Not my words, but is the party line of Slytherin, so Blaise reports."

He paused, waiting for a response that he knew would not come. Then continued, sitting on his cot. "Your friends Longbottom and Lovegood have successfully prevented a coup in your little army. The Weaslet has convinced her brother to seize power. No doubt fueled by the paranoia caused by his particular poison from the headmaster's hands." He lay down on his side, watching the sleeping boy in his bed.

His gray eyes tracing the outline of Potter's face as he lay in deep, enforced sleep. Barely alive. Barely breathing. Hardly any color in those cheeks. But he was alive. The spell cast had been the first step of a curse breaking process. The first step to healing not just Potter's body, but also his mind.

He startled, siting upright when the door to his chamber opened. Tobias stood with Blaise and Professor Snape in the doorway.

"It's time I show you the quick and dirty method of getting into Potter's head," Tobias said, divesting himself of his shirt as he crossed the room to take up residence on the empty cot. "Being inexperienced in this, you'll be given Dreamless Sleep to inhibit your own fantasies from intruding. You'll be holding Potter's hand in order to strengthen the connection. Your job, your ONLY job is to remind Potter that he is alive. Remind him of who he is. I don't care how you do it, just make sure he does not get lost. This is a very intense thing we're going to be doing to him."

It was then Draco spotted the silver tray his fellow housemate carried. Laden with colored bottles and potions. The antidote, or rather, antidotes. Blaise handed an orange bottle to Tobias. A green bottle to Draco. And then lay the tray on the nightstand for Snape to work from.

The potions master pushed up his sleeves and sat in a chair between Draco and Potter, leaving enough room for their hands to be brought together. Tied together is necessary. "While Black works to piece together Potter's mind, I will endeavor to heal his body and purge it of the poisons given to him. It will be painful. But remember, you are safe. You cannot come to harm. It is Potter who is in danger."

He cracked his knuckles. "Take your potion, Draco. And relax.

"What of Granger?" Draco asked, spotting Tobias taking his potion beside him. "She-"

"She is also going to be purged. However, her mind does not require healing. Now take Potter's hand. Take your potion. And lay back."

Reluctantly, Draco did as he was told. Potter's hand felt clammy and cold in his hand. Almost as if he had truly died, yet his mind had refused to give in. Slowly, Draco closed his eyes and practiced controlling his breathing. A meditation technique his mother had taught him when he had been a rather hyperactive eight year old. A way to quiet his mind before his nightly routine for going to bed.

He heard murmurs as he drifted into the deep emptiness of the Dreamless Sleep. And then, a slight pull behind his navel, as if he were disapperating.

Suddenly shouting. A large fire, the visage of a snake burning through the air as the vast chambers of the Ministry lobby filled with light and sand. It crashed into a wall of water brought up by the command of a powerful wizard.

The words "You've lost, old man," echoed in the distance. Potter's pained screams. But Draco could not focus. He could not separate one image from another as he heard the laughter of his aunt Bellatrix ringing in his ears.

"I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!"

Sharp, high pitched cackles.

He put his hands to his head, the pain in his ears so intense he thought he may black out. Then, he heard it. The calm, measured voice of Tobias.

"Calm your mind, Draco. These are not your thoughts. These are not your memories."

"I- I ca-"

"You can. You must!"

Draco schooled his breathing. Willing himself to become peaceful. To be filled with peace. It was nearly too much, too intense.

"We are going back," he heard Tobias say, his voice a soft, calm echo. He felt hands upon his shoulders, trying to steady him. "Back to the start of everything."

"I.... I can't. I can't do this. Let me out! Let me out of here!"

"The first time is frightening for everyone. And in a place like this... Well, I'm sorry about this. But apparently you need a little jolt."

Draco was spun, and the images around them swelled. Bright colors, deafening noise. Useless images of potions classes and secret meetings. An awkward and unsatisfying kiss with that girl, Cho Chang, swam past. Gillyweed. Fighting a dragon. Beating Draco at Quidditch. Fighting back the Dementors and saving Sirius Black. The joy of learning that it was not Black that had killed his parents. The pain of a summer wasted, bullied. The end of second year. A diary. Saving Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets. Tom Riddle.

Further back and further back, he went into his memory.

Then, a sharp slap across his face. A hand large enough to crush his skull. Another slap. And another.

"YOU ARE DRACO MALFOY!" Tobias shouted, causing the blonde to glare at him with such venom. But it wasn't like that. It wasn't... He hadn't...

Then, quite suddenly, Draco found himself on the Hogwarts Express. Hand outstretched. Waiting in anticipation. Waiting for the famous Harry Potter to take his hand and be his friend.

Then...

"Huh. Didn't expect you to focus in so heavily on this one," Tobias said, snapping Draco back into himself. Watching, rather than experiencing, the memory of what turned out to be his second meeting with Potter. "Well, that certainly explains a lot. The crushing pain of rejection. That'll scar a kid for life. Or, well, seriously bruise his little lordly ego." Tobias fought hard not to smile. He did not know, could not know exactly from which perspective this memory was coming from. But he was certain that whatever the reason, this memory must have been vital to what was currently going on in Harry Potter's mind at this moment.

"What are you experiencing? Tell me, how does this scene make you feel?"

"What?"

"It will give me a clue. Now tell me. How does this make you feel?"

Draco looked back at the scene unfolding. As the hand was rejected, and he heard the prepubescent voice of himself caution Potter on his choice in friends... He didn't feel the rejection. Or the frustration he had always felt. Instead, he felt-

"Revulsion. Anger," he said. "And relief. Relief... that I did not take his hand. Why?" Draco looked to Tobias in confusion.

"So it is definitely Potter's perspective. Good. Now, let's leave. We need to locate the present day Potter in these memories." Tobias turned, leaving behind the Draco of memory. The current Draco stopped at the door of the compartment, looking back at the trio as they were in their youth. "What did I do to make you hate me already?"

"Draco! Come!" Tobias barked from the corridor.

Draco stepped out of the compartment, closing the door behind him. Only to discover... "It's empty. There's no one here."

"On the contrary," Tobias said, motioning for Draco to come meet him at another compartment. "Look closer."

Draco moved to stand beside him, looking in through the window. The shade was rolled up, and he could see not a compartment of the Hogwarts Express, but rather... "What is this?"

"This," Tobias said. "Is where we begin."

"I don't understand... who-"

"Who do you think that is?"

Draco's face twisted into a mask of horror. "No..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Don't make me go in there."

"We must. To uncover the root of the problem in Potter's mind, this is where we begin. The night this horror story first began." Tobias opened the compartment door and stepped out into the cold October night. "Come. Let us see what we can see in Potter's Cottage tonight."

**o0o**

Once the wolf and the boy had fallen into the trance, Snape began his work on Potter. "I will need you to restrain him to the best of your abilities, Mr. Zabini."

"Of course, sir," the boy replied, reaching for his wand.

Snape shook his head. "No. Magic may damage him in this state. You must use muggle means. There are ropes and straps in the next room. Fetch them."

The boy's eyes went wide in shock as Snape grazed Harry's cold cheek with the back of his hand before opening his mouth and pouring the first liquid down. He massaged his throat to force the potion down him. Then the next.

By the time Blaise returned with the restraints, Harry began to convulse. "Hurry boy! Hurry!" he shouted, rising from his place at Potter's side and snatching a rope. He first bound Draco and Potter's hands together to prevent Potter from losing his anchor to the living world. Blaise hurried to tie straps down across Potter's middle. Snape, once finished with their hands, moved to help.

"Why is he-"

"His body is now fighting the poisons. This will become... messy. We need water, as cold as you can make it. You will clean him when he needs it, and I will continue to administer the antidotes. If all goes well, Potter will begin recovering from his ordeals."

"And if not?"

"Then may Merlin and Morganna forgive us, and may Fortuna grant us a swift and merciful death before the Dark Lord and the Headmaster find us."

Blaise swallowed. "I was afraid you'd say something like that."

**o0o**

The screams were worse when Draco closed his eyes. He wanted to vomit, but knew there was nothing to come up.

"That will be Snape," Tobias whispered, as if they could be heard. The pair were specters, standing in to watch Lily and James Potter's murder. "You're experiencing some of Potter's physical symptoms at this moment. It will pass."

"Have we seen what you needed to see yet?" Draco asked, unwilling to turn back to face the crying child in the broken crib. "Please?!"

"Yes. Back to the train," Tobias said. He grabbed his arm, pulling Draco through the ruined house as it began to melt away. In the distance could be heard the roar of an engine. Rubeus Hagrid had just come, by order of Dumbledore, which in itself had always seemed suspicious to Tobias.

That is, until he heard another voice crying out into the night, which bid him to turn in surprise.

"Lily!" he cried. "James! NO! NO NO! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME! I'LL KILL THAT YELLOW RAT FACED BASTARD!"

"Black, it's not safe! Come back!" came another voice, just as the scene melted into nothingness, leaving an open compartment door spilling light into the void.

Draco pulled him out of the void, back into the compartment. The door slammed shut without being touched. The pair of them stood, panting and staring back at the door as the blind was yanked down. "How-"

"That was Sirius. Sirius and-"

"Severus. But it was Hagrid. Everyone knows it was Hagrid that found the Potters that night."

"Someone's been lying. Lying for a very... VERY long time," Tobias snarled in tightly controlled anger. Anger at Albus Dumbledore, without a doubt. But also anger at the boy, nay the man he would become. Anger at both his grandparents for having never told the truth. Never telling him what had really happened. He was the family historian. It was his job to know these things. Every. Last. Detail.

But then... if he had known, would he have still risked so much to do this? To help fix what was wrong with the great and powerful Harry Potter?

"Come on. I think we need to see what happened next," Draco suggested, leading Tobias out of the train car and into another. They stopped to peer into the first compartment they came to. And there, they saw the stairs. And the eyes staring out from the slats in the cupboard beneath them.

"Why?" was all Draco could ask. "Why would people do such a thing to a child?"

"Fear, mostly. People, all people. Muggles and wizard alike. We fear what we do not understand. And these muggles feared wizards. They were afraid of Harry," Tobias said, allowing his anger at the lies to simmer in the back of his mind. There were more important matters to attend to at the moment. "So, they mistreat him. Pray that if they beat him enough, the magic will leave him. That they can fix him."

"Magic is not a disease."

"Try telling them that," Tobias said, indicating the thin woman tormenting the child through the slats in the door under the stairs. "He's been living this way all his life. He doesn't understand that it's wrong. That little boys should be loved like every one else. Come, we do not need to see what happens next."

"But!-"

"I said come!" Tobias snarled, causing Draco to hurry his step behind him. At last, they came to another compartment. This one marked with numbers. Tobias recognized it as Harry's birthday. Quick math told him it was his eleventh.

He was just about to open the door when they heard a crash behind them. Back the way they had come. The door to the next car splintered open, and there came upon them a black cloud. Hissing and angry.

Tobias's eyes went wide, his nostrils flaring at the far too familiar scent in the air. He grabbed Draco by the scruff of the neck and threw him ahead of him. They ran. The black, hissing snake-like cloud hot on their heels. Draco tore through the train car, barreling into the next. Instinct took over, and he threw out his hand, his fingers flexing and bending, touching the specific line he needed in his palm.

"DUCK!" Draco cried, and recognizing what was happening, Tobias threw himself to the side and rolled to the floor.

" _ **ARMA LUCIS!**_ "

Tobias watched from below as the power pulsed through Draco's body. Starting as a vibrant silver glow at his chest and then quickly pushing through down his arm. Out of his hand a shield of pure white power. Draco's mouth opened again as the black hissing cloud pushed and fought against him.

" _ **ARMA LUCIS MAXIMA!**_ "

His hair was wild. His voice a deep, angry dragon's roar as his face contorted, giving only the ghost of a reptilian snout. Or perhaps it was a trick of the light. Draco took a step. Then another. The blackness screamed in agony as he forced it back. Once the teen had moved past him, Tobias scrambled to his feet. His vision blurred, he could have sworn those were... No. They weren't. Draco did not have that ability. The potential, yes. Certainly. But he had not acquired his animagus form. Yet.

" _YOU WILL NOT HAVE HIM!_ " Draco roared, and with one mighty push the blackness was gone. Draco fell to his knees, the display of power fading. "It knows."

Tobias was quick to his side, kneeling to aid him. "What does?"

"It knows we are trapped in here with it. And it has gone to tell its master."

"The connection," Tobias said. "We need to sever it. But how?"

"It wasn't just... it's not just a curse scar. It's... it's a piece of him. Somehow, the Dark Lord has been living in here. Hiding in Potter's mind since that night his parents died. How could he-"

"I think the question right now is rather why did it wait so long to become active again?"


	17. 16. Train

 

"Damn you Potter! Don't you die just to spite me or I shall bring you back to life just to carve the skin off your self righteous-"

"Now now Severus there shall be none of that now."

He had not seen the wall open upon them. Nor had he seen her take the painting off of it as it closed behind her. "Oh I do so love skeleton keys." She shrunk the painting and tucked it back into her handbag, letting it settle right in beside her tarot deck. "It looks like we arrived in the nick of time."

"Sybill, I would ask how in the devil you found us, but-"

"But that will have to wait. Now then, please direct me to Miss Granger. I've a message I wish to give her before I join your little club here."

"Sybill!"

"This way, is she? Traces of her aura linger here, but lead out. Needed the space for your little experiment. Don't worry," she said, crossing the room. "It'll all work out. I dare say much better than expected. I'll see myself to the girl then."

She stopped long enough to remove a thumbnail portrait from her handbag. She then enlarged it and allowed it to lean against the wall nearby. "You stay quiet until we need you. And stay out of frame."

"You spoil my fun, dearest."

"Alas, we've work to do yet and little time to do it. You can have your fun afterward."

She gave the painting, empty save for the disembodied voice, a pat before leaving the bedroom.

Blaise stared after her, but his attention was quickly returned to Potter when Snape hissed at him to restrain the boy's legs once again so that he may pour yet another sickly potion down his throat.

Potter himself didn't look good at all. Blaise had already been forced to clean him up after a rather... messy... release of toxins. Potter now lay covered in a thin sheet as both Snape and Blaise believed it best not to allow the patient to soil more clothing.

Pillows lay on the floor, having already been scourgified nine times before Blaise gave up and refused to put them back. A technicolor of dried crusty fluid caked every scrape and scratch on the boy's body. Even his nose, which had bled quite profusely, now was stained in the colors of the poisons he had been fed, and the antidotes forced into him.

It took all of Blaise's willpower not to be sick himself at the smells and sights he had been confronted with. But the only alternative was to send one of Potter's other trusted friends... and he would never subject poor Lovegood, nor nervous Neville Longbottom to their leader's darkest hour.

**o0o**

"There's something I'm missing. Something I should have already known." Tobias was frustrated. Racking his brain for the piece of lost information that he knew he should have known.

"Ah, this seems more recent," Draco said, stopping them at a compartment with a door different from the others. "This door leads to the Department of Mysteries."

"How do you-"

"My father has been there numerous times over the years. His great grandfather made predictions for the family, and left them in the care of the Ministry for later use of the Malfoy patriarchs. He took me once, but I was not allowed inside."

"Then this is where we go. A clue may lie in the death of Sirius Black."

Draco shook his head. "No, not his death. His murder. But this.. this, I think, has to do with why Harry fought my father that night. The prophesy the Dark Lord sought."

Tobias nodded, reaching for the door. Draco beat him to it and opened the compartment. Inside, rows upon rows of crystal balls. Filled with mist and curious whispers. But this peaceful sense was short lived as teenagers ran past by the light of lumos charmed wands.

**o0o**

Sybill Trelawney sat beside the cot on which Hermione Granger was laid out. She had been covered gently in a sheet up to her neck. "It's been quite a while, Miss Granger," she said, giving a tut before digging around in her handbag. She stroked the side of the bag with a sigh. She was going to miss this old thing, when the time came to part with it. But, needs must as they always say.

After her brief rummaging, she found a cloth bag. She picked through it a moment before finding what she needed. Two stones. One, a simple river rock with a single word engraved. The other, a shard of raw blue calcite. She held these in one hand, using the other to pull back the sheet to reveal the girl's hands.

In one hand she placed the river rock. In the other, she placed the blue calcite. "Dream, Miss Granger. You may not possess the second sight, but you are a smart girl. A clever girl. This will help you recall what you need to remember. Better than any Remembrall I have ever encountered. There are messages hidden in plain sight, child. Signs you have been led to ignore. Now is when you'll remember them. Put these to good use."

She closed Hermione's hands over the two stones and covered her back up. One more tut, a shake of her head, and she returned to the room in which the three sleeping men lay. Harry had once again settled. Blaise exhausted on the floor at the foot of the bed. Snape mopping the sweat from Draco's brow.

"How goes the good fight, gentlemen?"

"How you found us, I will torture from you later madwoman. WHY you are here, I dare say shows the lapse in your sanity."

She shook her head with a sigh. "Oh Severus... I do hope you keep this callous exterior next year. You're going to need it to hide your pity and your concern."

"Let him be, Sybill," said the disembodied voice. She turned now to the frame as the figure stepped back into it at last.

Snape's keen eyes shifted from Draco to the picture. Leaning against the wall on the other side of the werewolf.

He examined the man in red and gold regalia quickly. He then realized who he was looking at. "Godric Gryffindor I presume?"

"You are correct, Potions Master."

"Decoy portraits. Clever. Dare I say, rather Slytherin of you."

Gryffindor laughed, a sound similar to the werewolf laying outstretched before him. "Well, you don't spend a century working with your closest friend and not learn a thing or two. Now then, I believe you're having a spot of trouble with the current headmaster. Seeking fame and glory is he. Not on our watch, thank you kindly. I must summon council. Sybill, take me to the children's playroom dearest. There are preparations to be made." Trelawney picked him up and carried him with both hands out of the room.

"Mr. Zabini, don't forget to duck."

"Wha-"

At that moment Harry began thrashing again, causing Draco's arm to pull and strain against it's will. Blaise, as he was attempting to wipe up yet again after another foul expulsion of poisons, did not see the rope which bound Harry's left leg give. He caught the other boy's foot full in the face.

Madame Trelawney's voice called from the next room. "I told you not to forget to duck!"

**o0o**

They had followed the battle out of the Department of Mysteries. The pair of them moving in tandem, keeping an eye out for that terrible black mist. They followed the taunting chant. "I killed Sirius Black!" At last, they came upon Bellatrix and Potter. His wand out, but the pair of them frozen.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

At that moment, there were two Potters. Two Bellatrix Lestranges. Both Potters shouted in unison. " _ **Crucio**_!"

One Bellatrix laughed. The other screamed and writhed in agony.

"You have to mean it!" The one laughing cried. "You have to want it!"

The other's screams intensified as that Potter bore down upon her.

"Two memories, fighting for control," Tobias said, looking around.

"How can this be? Is it the connection between Potter and-"

"No. Someone else has been playing here recently. What do you feel, Draco?"

It was hard to pinpoint, exactly. Elation. Joy. Hatred. Pain. Anger.

"Focus."

"I'm trying!" Draco snapped, and discovered his answer. There was fury. Desire. "Vengeance."

" _ **Nudam Veritatem**_ ," Tobias whispered, and regretted it the moment he did.

The weak willed Potter faded, and with it the laughing Bellatrix. All that remained was the boy who tortured the Death Eater on the floor.

" _ **Expelliarmus**_!" came the cry. But Potter was faster.

He spun, and Tobias saw the tear tracks down his cheeks. Bellatrix, now released from her punishment fled as Harry Potter, in his anger, in his rage, turned his wand on the old man who had come to stop him.

"You've lost, old man!" Potter shouted, raising his wand above his head to summon a... well, Draco and Tobias didn't really know what he was doing. But they could sense the build up. The anticipation.

"Clarity," Draco said, blinking as he felt a sort of relief. It felt like a deep fog had been lifted.

"Harry, don't!"

Momentarily distracted, Harry had turned to see Ginny Weasley in the corridor. That was all it took before Draco stumbled, reaching for his head. "It's back."

"The mist?" Tobias asked anxiously, looking around them for the deadly cloud.

Draco shook his head furiously as a stunner slammed into Harry's back, knocking him to the floor. The teen skid a good ways, hit with spell after spell.

"You told us it would hold!" The voice was blurring. Was that... No. It couldn't have been...

The world was going dark.

"Seeing Sirius murdered must have caused his mind to overcome the charms. He is stronger than even I had believed. Molly... take him."

"Albus-"

"If you insist... _**Obliviate**_... _**Imperio**_."

Tobias's voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, but it did not good. He looked at Draco, who held his stare. The rage he had felt when Potter had broken free, Draco still held it within him. "We need to split up."

"No."

"It's the only way. I'll find the real Po... Harry. You find the connection to the Dark Lord and sever it."

"It's safer if we stick together. You don't know how to navigate this world. Dreamscapes are notorious for getting people lost in them."

"All the better for you to search for the things that don't belong. I'll find Harry. I'll keep him tethered to the real world. You have to break the curses over him and fix his mind. Fix... all of this. I'll be safe. You told me so. Besides, what was it you told me before? Everyone's tried to kill Potter. And yet here he is. Alive and well. I may go through danger, but the safest place is by his side. And that's where I intend to be."

Tobias gave a gentle smile. "You have no idea..." he said, shaking his head. Draco looked at him oddly. "Alright. First thing's first, let's get out of here."

They searched for an exit, finding in the process that they could not go back the way they had come. After thinking that they may be trapped, having gotten lost in the real memory rather than the fabrication, Draco found a door resembling those of the compartments on the Hogwarts Express. This was clearly the way out.

They closed the door behind them. The soft click of the lock told them they would not be getting back into that one. "You go down the train, I go up it?" Toby suggested.

"Wouldn't it be logical that Potter is the conductor? This is, after all, his mind."

"I don't think so. If that false memory is any indication, Harry hasn't been in control here for a rather long time. You need to think of a memory. One only yourself and Potter know. When you think you have found him, test him. Think of a few of them if you like. Use them to ensure that it is the real Harry, and not one of the false memories. I will do what I can to uncover the true memories as I search the train."

"The mist-"

"It'll be expecting you to throw everything you have at it. So, do it. Though I suspect I'll be having more trouble than you will on that end of this adventure." He reached out, offering his hand to Draco. When the teen put out his own, Tobias clasped his inner forearm. Draco raised a brow, then followed suit. "You keep yourself safe, my Lord."

"You as well. Now go. Save Pott... Save Harry," Draco corrected, reminded of that haunted set of eyes staring out from that cupboard under the stairs. "Save us all."

"I'll do my best." Tobias gave Draco's arm one final squeeze before setting off to find the link. Draco watched him until he left the train car, then moved in the opposite direction to begin his search.

Tobias had asked him more than once how he felt. Draco now understood why. He now understood what they meant about being an anchor to the real world. Draco could discern between his own feelings and thoughts, and those he experienced around him in this dreamscape that was Harry Potter's broken mind.

Now, he used this aspect of his role. He sought out events and memories that held a very strong emotion. Sorting through each he came across. Picking his way through the bad, and cataloging the good. The more good he found, the better the chances of finding Harry, the real Harry, as well.

**o0o**

Once he had been placed on the wall, the mystical stonework seemed to absorb him into it. Leaving a frame without a canvas. Once he was in place, Trelawney had returned to help Snape and Blaise with their good work. However... on the other side of the stonework where the Hogwarts founder had disappeared, there stood a hidden chamber. Four walls. Four corridors, each blocked by a large gilded frame.

Blue. Gold. Silver. Black. "Rowena, you are looking well my darling." Gryffindor grinned as the painting of Rowena Ravenclaw, framed in blue, filled in. Likewise, her painting, currently hanging in the Room of Requirement, had faded from view.

"And what am I? Bugblatter beast liver!" came a jubilant shout.

Gryffindor acknowledged the woman to his left, Rowena on his right. "Helga! Handy, hiding Rowena's rooms inside your own. Why, she could be hiding them in any number of your room combinations. The possibilities are limitless."

"Thank you, Godric," she said. "But why all this? The council chamber was to be sealed off. Never to be used again for fear of power mad wizards and witches."

He turned his attention to the final frame, blue-grey eyes softened at the vacant sight. The canvas was there. But the man himself refused to come into view. No doubt listening in from his only other painting.

"It has come to my attention that we are needed. A revolution is upon this school, and those who choose to stand and fight need guidance. They need proper instruction." The two women turned their attention to the vacant painting now as well. Godric continued. "Children are caught in the center of a bitter war between a Dark Lord and a power hungry old fool. Salazar..."

"One condition," came the reply before the man himself appeared. Wild black hair was stark against pale, milky white skin. Ashen gray eyes blazed in silent rage as he smoothed out the green and silver robes he wore. "You must convince your cowardly lions that the most ancient and noble house of Slytherin has not been, and will never be, the evil incarnate they have been spoon fed to believe. My teachings are dark, but they are not evil. They are not an affront to the gods, and I most certainly want revenge upon whomever killed my dear Gladstone!"

"Yes yes of course. Not evil. Right." He blinked, staring first at his old friend, then at the two ladies. "Gladstone?"

"The basilisk," Rowena said in boredom.

"YOU KEPT IT AS A PET!?"

"Not everyone can have cute and cuddly familiars, Godric." His eyes narrowed, and a smirk played upon his thin lips. "I have one more request," he said.

"No more. You're lucky we didn't let them burn you in 1293."

"One more. This is my deal breaker."

"No."

"Then you must not need my help. Good day ladies." He stepped out of the frame briefly, only to return when Gryffindor gave an exasperated sign and agreed.

"All records of my condition are to be destroyed. It is disgusting and brings shame upon my descendants. I will not have the name of Slytherin be connected to something so... grotesque."

The ladies looked to their leader. Once annoyed yet proud now stared back at his old friend, broken. "You do not mean this, surely. You jest."

"I do not. My mind is set, and I will never forgive the harm that was done to me in the name of common decency. I was not given a choice in the matter. You, however, had been given ample opportunity to prevent it."

"Helga, Rowena..." Godric said softly. "Leave us. There are... personal terms that must be discussed."

The women nodded, receding into the wall. The frames empty of their canvases. The women returning to their other paintings. When he was sure they were alone, Godric spoke. His voice still soft. "I am sorry for my part in it, Salazar. I did not know he was your..."

"No. You did not. And look what it turned me into Godric. The muggleborn feared us. Because they did not understand that it was, for our part, natural. They used my own spells on him. They tortured him until at last he killed himself, hating himself for what he had become. What I had made him. Because you failed to stand by us. You failed to stop your lions from leading an assault on my snakes.

"The Muggleborns of Gryffindor slaughtered my children. I barely escaped with my life. Cast out of the sanctuary I helped create. My only living descendents scraped and clawed their way through the ages. The Gaunts went mad with tales of their former glory. The ability to see the truth drove the Blacks mad. And the Malfoys... hoarding their gold and isolating themselves in fear of becoming as their cousins. Dead, forgotten, and irrelevant. No. My disgrace must be hidden. Purged from history if the only blood I have left in this world is to flourish and survive." He folded his arms over his chest, giving a beady stare across the chamber at his old friend's portrait. "Only when these terms are accepted will I aid in ridding you all of my errant heir, this Thomas Riddle."

**o0o**

Harry had found himself sitting in the train station. Just... sitting there. Reading a paper. It was a wizard newspaper. It was a muggle train station. He could have been there minutes. Hours. Days. He had no way of knowing. He was, however, quite surprised when someone sat beside him.

"When we first met in Madame Malkin's, what did I say to you about muggleborns?"

Harry frowned, looking up from his newspaper to see Draco Malfoy sitting beside him. This was most decidedly not how he remembered his afternoons in the train station.

Draco watched him expectantly. Hopeful.

"You said that they shouldn't be allowed into Hogwarts. Because they were never brought up to know the ways of the wizard world."

"And in Grimmauld, my oath?" he pressed, knowing only Harry and Tobias would know the answer to this particular question.

"You bound your magic to me."

"Quote me."

"I-"

"Quote me!"

Harry struggled to recall what Draco asked of him. At last, he remembered something of it at least. "You said 'My life is his to take or keep as he sees fit, until the time he release me of this oath or death take me.' That's right, isn't it?"

Draco was visibly relieved. "Potter, I've been looking for you everywhere. You have no idea what I've gone through just to find you..."

**o0o**

Tobias had found himself in a rather nasty piece of work. Rather than go from compartment to compartment, he'd found the worst one he could possibly think of, and began following the links in the memory chain. He'd found and removed a total of nine false memories, the most recent of which involved a trip to Dumbledore's office for a special lesson. He did not follow into the pensieve, knowing that to dive into a memory of a memory was even more dangerous than getting lost in a false one.

Judging from the conversation after the pensieve visit for Harry, it must have been the false memory from Professor Slughorn.

The planted memory in Harry's mind was that he had gone to Dumbledore's office for his lesson on the Dark Lord's past. It was not the first, and it was not the last. This was just the most recent Tobias had come across. But the truth was far... darker than he had anticipated.

"No wonder grandmother was so insistent on getting the truth out of people..." he said to himself. Walking around a drugged and entranced Harry Potter, seated before the headmaster. Dumbledore was drilling him for information. Forcing him to ride the connection to the Dark Lord. Forcing him to endure the pain of the Dark Lord's madness. All for the sake of information.

He stopped and stood between the memory Harry and the memory Dumbledore. His back to Harry, he stood his full height. Staring the mental representation of the old man in the eye. "Now I know. Now I know what it was I'd forgotten. What you'd made me forget soon after our first meeting. That black mist, that black cloud hiding in Potter's mind. That's him. A piece of him. You'd known, all of these years. Yet you said nothing." His blood boiled. He wished the man were truly there for him to unleash his rage upon.

He was so angry, he could not think of anything more than a line from Shakespeare's play, All's Well That Ends Well. " 'Methinks thou art a general offense, and every man should beat thee. I think thou wast created for men to breathe themselves upon you.' " He spat on the memory Dumbledore's robes before searching for an exit into the next memory.

Instead, when he passed through the gateway to the next memory in the chain, he came upon the compartment at the head of the train. The conductor stood alone at the controls. A man younger than the Dark Lord, but his aura of hate and insanity unmistakable. "I must thank you," the representation of Lord Voldemort hisses. "For ridding me of those false memories. Now I can see so clearly what the old fool has been doing. And yet... you continue to serve him? As you served me no doubt."

"I serve the House of Malfoy. I serve Harry Potter."

"Then you will die here, mongrel!" The Dark Lord turned, or rather, this version of him turned. His wand, a mere figment in this place, raised. Tobias summoned all of his strength. He called upon the beast within and with a howl met the Dark Lord's curse with one of his own. Dark magic against dark magic. Wand versus sheer power of will. Malice versus knowledge.

And the two were deadlocked in a battle of wills as a black mist settled over the front end of the dreamscape Hogwarts Express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nudam Veritatem - Latin - translation: Naked Truth
> 
> Expect fluff in the next chapter. I need it. So do Draco and Harry.  
> Also, we're not done with Slytherin and Gryffindor yet.  
> Thank you everyone who stuck with me through the long hiatus. Though, waiting years between books or seasons and films likely prepared you for this long stint. Thank you. And to those just tuning in, thanks for choosing this fic to read. I hope to continue to entertain you. All the way to the end.


	18. 17. Proxy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT! - This chapter was originally going to be a bit more.... fluffy. Instead, you get this warning. This chapter contains mentions of and implications of the following: violence, torture, and rape against a minor age child. If this bothers you in any way, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER. I will not be offended in ANY WAY.
> 
> **_ THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING OF WHAT LAY AHEAD. _ **

After Draco had explained to Harry what he was doing there, and how he and Tobias had been searching for him, he waited for Harry to respond. After an awkward silence, most of which Harry had spent nodding his head and reading his newspaper, he finally spoke. "So this, all of this, is a dream."

"Yes."

"And I am in your bed at Hogwarts, after Mr. Black put a full body bind on both myself and Hermione."

"Yes." Draco nodded this time with his reply.

"And you stood by and watched him and Snape put a curse on us-"

"A sleeping charm. For your own good. Harry, it's bad out there. You and your friends have been drugged. Snape is trying to-"

"Snape?! You have that greasy git giving me-"

"He's the only one I trust."

"He's going to kill me!"

"He's trying to save you!"

"He's a bloody Death Eater, Malfoy!"

At this, Draco could take no more of Potter's complaints. The last remark infuriated him. He stood, visibly shaking and glaring down at Harry with a silver rage. "NOT BY CHOICE!" he snapped, turning his back to him and storming across the train station platform. "He was a scared kid with nowhere to go and no hope left! The coward had... He was trying to... YOU of all people should understand how muggle fear works!"

Silence once more fell after Draco's echoing voice faded.

Harry had risen, had cross the platform to follow Draco. But at the mention of muggles, of how they fear them, he stopped. He froze, with hand outstretched. He let it fall. "Me?" he whispered to himself. He tried to sort through his thoughts. Try to find a reason why Draco would say...

Then he remembered. And he felt violated. But worse than that, he felt betrayed. Snape had told... The bastard had told them what he'd seen the last time they had done Occlumency lessons. And now everyone knew and-

"No, I saw it for myself," Draco said, feeling the connection to Harry far stronger now than he had while traversing the memories. "Every scar. Every mark. Every bruise." Draco shut his eyes, not wanting to recall the more violent and terrifying of the memories he had come across involving the muggles Harry had been forced to live with.

"Did you see..."

The fear, the dread that came off of Harry did not go unnoticed by Draco. He gave a silent nod. His voice, when he spoke, was hard and lacked all sense of warmth. "I saw. And you will never go back there again."

"But my mother's-"

"You will never return to that hell," Draco restated very firmly. "Now come on. Tobias should be nearly done by now. We should be able to find him at the head of the train."

Harry frowned at him, his brow furrowed. "Draco, the train hasn't arrived yet." At last Draco turned back around to look at him. Silver eyes looking him over carefully.

"Harry," he said. "Where do you think we are?"

"King's Cross."

Draco shook his head. "No. We are not. This place is not real. It is a dream. I already explained this to you."

Harry stared at him, frowning. Then blinked at him in confusion. "Draco, how did you get here?"

At this, he realized something was wrong. He should have been paying closer attention. He should have noticed the slight changes in Harry's emotions. Anger and rage fading to self loathing and self pity. Into nonchalance. Into...

"Ignorance is indeed bliss, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco spun around, searching for that all too familiar voice. He searched for his wand, then realized in this place he did not have it. He did not need it. His mind, his essence was what existed here inside of Potter's dreams.

"The Master of Head games," Draco said angrily. "I should have known I'd find you here."

"Where is your mongrel pup? Off to destroy the link I suppose."

"That's exactly what he's been doing."

"So he thinks."

Draco flexed his fingers, turning in circles and scanning the scene around him. At last, he found the source of the voice. Standing with hands clasped behind his back. Half moon glasses perched on his face. "Mr. Malfoy, I must commend you on your skill. Such an advanced type of magic I had believed to beyond your understanding and control."

"I'm full of surprises." Draco flexed his fingers again, moving himself between Harry and the Headmaster. "Just like you, it seems."

"With all of the lies and deceit filling young Mr. Potter's head, are you quite certain that this is even happening at all? Why, I'm just here to collect Harry for the remainder of the summer."

"No. You're here to protect the lie of this place. To twist his memory of what really happened here. How many more false memories have you planted in Harry's head? How much have you manipulated him into acting as your shield? Your weapon!"

Behind him, Harry only just noticed the headmaster having come for him. "Oh, hello Professor. Did something happen? When you were late, I thought maybe it had to do with the bridge Voldemort's followers attacked."

Draco turned, grabbing Harry by his forearms. "Don't listen to him Harry! This isn't real! It didn't happen this way! Don't you see what he's doing to you? How much he's changed your mind around into... Into..."

Harry's green eyes stared at him blankly, or rather, stared through him.

"It's no use, Mr. Malfoy. This memory has been rooted deep. Deeper than even you or your pet can uncover with your little truth seeking charms."

Draco examined Harry's face. Scrutinizing every detail in his expression, or rather, lack thereof. His eyes were clear, but his body, his dream body seemed as if under a...

"You're not immune," Draco whispered in realization. "You've never been immune..." There was nothing more he could do in this place. The real Harry was, for the moment, unreliable. The headmaster could not risk him or else undo his machinations. Turn his weapon into a wild and angry force of nature which none could control. That was when it hit him. That was when it all came together. The locked compartment, the black mist that had attacked only when they had reached... "His birthday..."

Draco let go of Harry and turned, finding the headmaster's form had been consumed by the black mist. They had gotten it wrong. The mist wasn't trying to protect the link to the Dark Lord. The mist was trying to protect the secret. It was trying to protect itself.

Draco broke into a run. Searching for the door beyond the mist. He summoned his reserves, trying to force his way through it using the Arma lucis spell. It was not enough. He could feel the mist trying to suffocate him.

" _ **Expecto Patronum!**_ " a squeaky voice cried out. Draco's eyes widened when not a stag, but a large snake came forth, dispelling the mist. "Hurry, this way!"

A very small boy stood on the other side of the door leaving the memory. Draco moved in his direction, gasping for breath and gaining speed. Just as he reached the door, the mist was once more upon him. The large glowing snake reared up, rising vertically until it blocked Draco with its body. The teen glanced over his shoulder to see it hanging in the air, wings spreading out from its back. "A wyvern?"

"Come on!" the boy snapped, pulling Draco out of the memory and into the train corridor. The wyvern disappeared as the door was slammed shut and a rather large lock slid into place. "Are you insane Malfoy!" the boy shouted, smoothing out his first year robes. "I swear, you are going to get us killed one of these days. You idiot! You imbecile!"

"What- What happened back there?"

"The moment I felt him arrive in that memory, I switched to another one. But it won't last long. It was the first thing I could think of."

"Which was?"

"My happy memory room. First time on a broom. Thanks to you, I made it onto the quidditch team." It had been years since that day, and Draco had forgotten how utterly awkward Harry had looked and been in first year. "We have to find somewhere for you to hide."

"Your birthday, the day we met."

"No. Locked."

"Locked?"

"Can't get in. I know what's in there. But I can't get in."

"Is our memory in there?" Draco asked, following the boy as they went into the next train car. "Is it... Has he tainted it?"

"No. It isn't in there. It's safe. Good call using it to ensure I was me and not a false version. The follow up was also good. Now, we need to have a code word should we get separated again."

"Vatican cameos?" Draco suggested. The boy stopped and stared at him. "What? I heard Tobias say it a few times when he thinks I do not notice. Always scribbling in his journals..."

First year Harry shrugged. "It works as well as any other I suppose. Ah! Here we are!" He stopped before an ornately carved door, only to pass it up for a plain and unattractive one. This door, he unlocked and slid aside. Draco peered in over his shoulder. Shelves lined with what looked like crystal balls. Each containing a swirling mist. He focused his eyes on the shelves, noticing brass labels upon each. Harry's happy memories.

"Ah, here we are. This is more suited to me." He picked one up, and his body morphed. Taller, a little more muscular. The robes changed into muggle clothes. This... This was Harry Potter of fourth year. This was the Potter who faced off against the Dark Lord. But this time...

"Isn't that when Diggory..."

Harry nodded, placing the crystal ball back upon the shelf. His fingers trailed across the glass before he turned his back on it. "The spells converged. _**Priori Incantatem**_ was cast, and my parents... Their echoes, intervened and saved my life. So did Cedric's, and some others. I saw their faces more clearly than ever before," Harry said, and gave a bittersweet smile. "They spoke to me. I could finally hear my mother's voice without it screaming. It was... It was a good day, all things considered."

"You don't get enough of those, do you?"

"No. I don't." He turned his attention fully to Draco now. Green eyes scrutinizing everything about him. Despite their brightness, Draco looked back into those eyes and saw the slight cloudiness of his suspicions. The slightest of films blocking the true brilliance of Harry's gaze. A filter for his perception. "Can you two really fix what's wrong with me?"

"You mean you know?"

"Why do you think we're on a train Draco? I have to keep my thoughts moving. I have to keep them in motion. The moment they stop, the moment I stop... One wants to kill me for power. The other wants me to become a martyr. Remus and Sirius wanted to get me out of it all. They wanted to take me into hiding. Sirius wanted me to become part of the Order, to see what the headmaster was capable of with my own eyes. He had hoped it might shock me back to my senses. Help me to realize what was really going on." Harry shook his head. "But Mrs. Weasley always kept us away from the meetings."

He was about to say more, but the train gave a mighty whistle before the screeching of breaks could be heard.

"BLACK!" Draco exclaimed, trying to keep his footing as the train jerked to a halt.

Moments later, the two boys heard the slamming of doors and feet pounding the floor. Finally, breathless, a bloodied and disheveled Tobias appeared. "Shit shit shit shit! I may have miscalculated!" he shouted, running at them full pelt.

"What the bloody hell did you do?!" Harry shouted angrily as Tobias grabbed each boy under the arm and dragged them behind him.

"Unstoppable force needs to meet immovable object. Then BOOM!"

The black mist followed, this time cloaking not the headmaster, but the Dark Lord. Or rather, a version of him. Railings creaked and pulled, doorways were rent asunder. Train cars turned into wrecks in his wake. They moved quickly. Harry and Draco realized immediately where they were being taken.

The locked door. The door with Harry's birth-date on it.

"But we can't!" Harry protested. "I've tried-"

"Yes, but let's... Oh hell. I'll explain later!" Tobias snapped as they came to the car with the compartment he sought. "Soon enough, the other one will show up. And we'll get in. We'll put an end to this piece by bloody piece!"

As Tobias had anticipated, from the opposite end came the opposing force of the Headmaster's presence in Harry's mind. The other black cloud that had scared them away from this door previously. "When I say get down. Get down. When I say go, you go."

Harry looked at Draco, who merely nodded. Harry stood facing the visage of the Dark Lord. Draco stood in the middle. Tobias had placed himself between the boys and the headmaster protectively. "I warned you once before what would happen if I caught you messing about with Harry's head. I'm not going to play nice anymore."

"I must commend your dedication to your mission-"

Tobias wouldn't let him finish. "Hey Moldy Voldy! Guess who came to play in your little special place!" He gave a wolfish grin, watching from the corner of his eye Draco's forced calm. Harry's wide eyed reaction. "Why, Dumbles here wants to make sure you don't kill poor wittle Potter. I heard he kicked your arse right proper last year at the Ministry!"

Already enraged, having been provoked by Tobias in their short pitched battle at the head of the train, the visage of the Dark Lord surged forward. The mists met as Tobias screamed for the boys to hit the floor. The resulting force of the two powers clashing caused the locked door to cave inward, weakening the seal upon it. " _ **Bombarda maxima!**_ " Draco snapped quickly, using his hand as his wand, much like he had often seen Tobias doing in their chambers. "Go go go!" Tobias shouted, trying to be heard over the tempest above them. The three crawled across the floor, sliding into the memory as snakes slithered on their bellies.

" _ **Repairo**_ ," Harry said, using his hand in much the same fashion he had seen Draco doing. He was surprised that it actually worked. The door was repaired, mostly. Dented and scarred from the initial hit that had broken its seal.

They had come out upon a rocky shore. A storm raged and rain beat down oppressively in the dark.

"This was your birthday?!" Draco shouted, trying to be heard above the howling wind.

Tobias frowned. "This... this isn't right," he said to himself. He felt sick. He did not want to be in this place any longer than necessary. The smells... the horrifying smells... The saltwater. The sand. The rain. The ozone in the air from the lightning. Smoke from a meager fire inside the shack that stood before them. Urine. Blood. Filth.

He touched Draco's arm as the two teens made their way towards the front of the shack. Draco turned to look at his guardian. "What?"

Tobias swallowed hard. He looked Draco square in the eye. "I think... I think it best you wait outside. You're not trained to see what I think we're about to see. You... You won't be able to handle it."

"I had to listen to my mother's screams. I had been forced to watch as she was repeatedly violated by... And you think-"

"My Liege!" he shouted in an attempt to go over Draco's head. "I feel Draco should remain outside as our watcher, just in case they wise up and follow us here."

Harry was silent as he turned his head, then spoke in a flat, dead tone. "If he want's to see. Let him see. I can't keep running from this anymore."

Draco shrugged off his guardian's hand and made to follow Harry around the corner to the front of the shack. "Draco," Tobias said in a warning tone. "Remember. We cannot change what has happened. We can only uncover the truth and dispel the lies."

Draco paused. He gave a slight nod of understanding, and moved forward. Tobias followed him around and through the door.

There stood Harry. The real Harry. No longer in the form of his 4th year self, but as he truly was. Underweight, awkward and tall. His hands shaking from the withdrawal symptoms. From the continuous shocks to his nervous system.

And there, laid out beaten, bruised, and bare as the day he had been born, lay a sobbing eleven year old boy. Caked in what Tobias could only describe as filth.

"This is why I never wanted to leave school," Harry said quietly. "It wasn't because I missed my friends. It wasn't because I missed magic. It was this. Knowing what I would be returning to. Knowing that every year, starting right here in this wretched place, Vernon Dursley finally discovered how I could be put to use. Magic has a way of healing the body of injuries faster than the muggle body. The stronger the magical core, the faster the body heals. And I have always been stronger than I look."

Draco felt sick. Tobias nearly was. Harry turned to the door as it was pushed in. There stood Hagrid, clearly distressed by what he had found. Nearly hysterical, on the verge of killing the muggles for what they had done to Harry Potter. Shouting at them angrily, and barely refraining from killing them. His words were nearly unintelligible.

The real Harry took Draco by the hand. "He's going to use the emergency portkey. Black, take Draco's other hand. I'll take hold of Hagrid's coat."

The groundskeeper scooped up the broken boy, his enormous tears falling into his beard and dripping onto the boy from it. The real Harry grabbed the hem of Hagrid's coat, just as he had said. Soon, the giant, the child, and three stowaways were pulled into the aether, only to reappear not in the hospital wing of St. Mungoes, as most emergency portkeys are usually programmed to do, but into the office of Albus Dumbledore.

Tobias was ready for an attack. Draco stiffened, expecting the same.

Harry shook his head. "No. This one's just a memory," he said as Hagrid clutched the boy in his arms, recounting what he had seen. Admitting what he had nearly done. The two men then left the office. The three others followed, having to almost run to keep up with them. They came to the hospital wing of the school. Madame Pomfrey screamed in fright as younger Harry was laid out on the cot before her.

The three watchers remained until at last, only Dumbledore sat with the boy.

"Why didn't they ever take you to the hospital?" Draco asked in anger. His fists clenched at his sides. Open. Closed. Repeat. Much, Tobias realized, like his dad had done when angry. A trait he had picked up as well. "Didn't they... Pomfrey should have..."

"Their eyes," Harry said. "Their eyes don't sparkle. They think... They think it's okay. Because the headmaster says it's okay. He didn't drug them. Not like me. Not like my friends. But they're under his power somehow... Just like me."

The last words were spoken just as the headmaster had placed a hand on the younger Harry's temple. Whispering words in another tongue. Dark words. Sinister words.

"Words," Tobias said, coming forward to inspect the scene closely. "For the Greater Good. This is when it happened. When he got into your head. But he didn't act until the end of the year. He wanted to see what you were capable of on your own, under your own free will. This," he said, squatting down beside the cot as the memory of the headmaster left them alone in the hospital dorm. "This is when he began placing the blocks on your magic. Do you think he sensed it then?"

"Sensed what?"

"The horcrux that's hidden inside of you," Tobias said, tracing the scar on the child's head. "It's not a curse scar. It's literally a piece of the Dark Lord. Hiding inside you all these years. Influencing your choices. Whispering to you of power and glory and greed and pain. What he feels, you feel. What he sees, you see." He cupped the young, bruised face that would one day be the teen that stood behind him. The teen whom had been raised to be a weapon. A martyr. "That's what he made me forget. That's what I couldn't remember. That is what is inside your head, right now, facing off against Dumbledore's barriers. We're using it right now to break the chains the headmaster has on you. But in the end, Harry, you will have to die. You will have to die and the horcrux will be destroyed with you. And there is nothing I can do to prevent this from happening."

"Then let me die now from the poisons and be done with it."

"There has to be another way!" Draco protested.

Tobias shook his head, refusing to look at either of them. He knew Harry survived. He knew, somehow, he lived beyond the Battle of Hogwarts. He did not know how. He did not understand why. The story spun years after by Ginny Weasley and sold to muggles across the globe was incomplete. It was not accurate. But there was some truth in it, after all.

"I will search the texts. See if I can find anything that may help. Harry, you are to continue acting the way you have been. We must not allow anyone to know you have broken free." He came away from the memory Harry, his anger burning inside him. The wolf fighting to be set free if only to cause havoc for those who hid such vital facts from Harry himself. "Is this the true memory of that night?"

"Yes."

"How do you know of it?"

"When Sirius died, something snapped. Some of my memories started to change. And now, after the two of you have been ransacking my mind, the rest have come unglued."

Tobias nodded, saying not another word on the matter. He turned his attention to Draco. "I must go. I've done all that I can here. I need to be outside, with Snape and the others. Working to keep Harry alive."

"What will happen to me? You're the one keeping us here. It's your spell. Once you end it..."

"No Draco. You are his anchor. You are currently making physical contact with Harry. You will remain until he himself wakes."

"Or dies," Harry said glumly.

Tobias smirked. "Well, there is that. But it won't happen just yet. You keep with him. Keep him safe, and for the love of Merlin don't go to the front end of the train."

"Wait!" Draco called out as Tobias made to leave the medical wing. "What about the headmaster?!"

"He is the physical manifestation in this place of the block put on Potter's magical core. I can do nothing about it. Harry has to be the one to break through it, just as I have been pushing you to do the same. The key is somewhere in this memory. That's why it was locked, wasn't it Harry?"

And he left. Just like that and beginning to hum. When the humming faded, Draco turned his attention back to Harry. Harry who had now moved to sit on the cot next to his younger self. Unconscious, but no longer bleeding.

"You know," Harry started. Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and began inspecting the large dormitory styled room. Identical beds, right down to the wrinkles in the bedding. No doubt Harry's mind filling in details with information it already had. "After discovering what the muggles had done to me for so many years, what the headmaster did was really a kindness. He made me forget the worst of it. He challenged me to put my inexplicable rage and anger into other things. Granted, he encouraged me to fight a man who had been driven insane by his own greed and power, but he did help me to channel and hone it rather than let it build up and explode."

"Making you forget the terrible things that happened to you is one thing. That, I understand. No one wants to remember a childhood spent beaten, abused-"

"Raped," Harry supplied.

The knowledge still turned Draco's stomach. "Yes. His intentions may have been good. It may have started out that way... But Harry, some of the things I've seen in here... His good intentions have turned sour. He's using you. Controlling you, and your friends." He moved to stand where he knew Harry could see him without looking away from his younger self. "It stopped being about protecting this innocent child a long time ago. This Harry, who came into my world with his eyes wide and barely able to contain his excitement... he's gone. I haven't seen him since fourth year. Not since Cedric Diggory was murdered right in front of him.

"Now look at you. When you started out all that time ago. When you met me in the robe shop. When you refused my friendship on the train. Did you ever imagine yourself becoming this? That know it all Granger, and even the Weasel, the children they were when you first met... What would those children say now if they saw what you have become? What you all have become?"

Silence settled over them. Only the repetitive sounds of shallow breath from the still form on the cot. Harry stared hard at the sleeping boy, willing himself not to look upon Draco. Draco who never failed to push his buttons. To point out his flaws. His foibles. The privileges he had in their world just because of something he couldn't remember doing as an infant. He infuriated him to no end. But at the same time... Draco was right.

"I've been trapped in here for so long." The voice was hoarse. Ragged. Coming from a throat screamed raw. "Reliving the same summer. Over and over again. Right up until Madame Malkin's shop. Before... Before I was sealed inside, I sent him out." A weakened arm raised, pointing at what Draco had originally thought was the real Harry. His arm fell again, the effort to keep it raised, to keep pointing too much for the broken boy to bear. "To gather my happiest memories. Keep them hidden. To keep them safe."

The not-real Harry nodded. "You're right," he said to Draco, but was looking to the real Harry instead. "It's been me since fourth year. A proxy, living in his place. When Harry lashed out after Cedric's murder, he lost all control of his magic. The blocks in place on this night shattered. He nearly killed the headmaster, as well as Barty Crouch the junior. For his safety, and for that of those around him, the headmaster placed him under a different form of the Imperius. It allows the illusion of free will, but keeps you in a cloud of constant confusion and perception. Despite this, I was able to do what I was created to do. Protect Harry's cherished memories and form a resistance. Band the students who would listen together into an army. We fight to protect the students, the children caught in the middle. Like us."

Draco looked to him, the false Harry, the Proxy Harry, and did not see the teenaged boy. He saw instead the thin, pale, gangly eleven year old boy from Madame Malkin's. Right down to the oversized second hand clothes he wore. "After the headmaster had buried the memories of my trauma, he had Hagrid take me to Diagon Alley to get my school things. I was the boy you met there. That's the memory I came from. Harry's first happy memory was meeting a child his own age, who could do the things he could do. A boy his age who didn't hit him and call him names. You turned out to be an arse, but you were the first child who had ever been nice to him. And that is where the wyvern came from. _It's you_."


	19. 18. Fear

Toby opened his eyes with a groan and a splitting headache. Though, what did he expect? He had just willingly dived into a brain that was the most scattered and frankly dangerous he had ever had the misfortune of visiting. He now had a healthy respect for Harry's self restraint and willingness to see the best in people, that was certain.

When he took his first breath of air in the waking world, he curled in on himself, hung his head off the side of the cot and nearly lost the contents of his stomach. It amounted to a few fingers of whiskey and bite or two of cheese. Not much, in the grand scheme. "What the-"

"The Potter boy," came the reply. Sybil Trelawney was crouched between Harry and Draco, inspecting their clasped hands curiously. "This is most interesting. Most interesting. How have you kept their hands from slipping? Applied a sticky charm? An adhesive?"

"Nothing," came Snape's reply.

"Most interesting..." She continued to murmur. When Tobias dared steal a look at her, she was smiling to herself. Almost... as if she knew something more. Something not even Tobias could possibly know.

"If you're quite done losing your breakfast, assistance would be most welcome. Mr. Zabini had to excuse himself before losing his own."

Tobias straightened himself out, then stretched his arms above his head. Sitting up, he swung his feet off the cot onto the floor. "There's more wrong in there than we thought. Dumbles has his hooks in deep. Had, at any rate."

"Were you able to identify the curses afflicting Potter?" Snape asked, dipping a cloth into a bowl of cool water and wringing it out again before applying it to Potter's forehead.

"Yes. And it's not pretty."

"Curses never are."

"Well, managed to use the Dark Lord's curse to eliminate the headmaster's charms. But the Dark Lord is going to be harder to remove." He stood, cracked his back before then cracking his fingers and briefly looked Draco over. "There is no delicate manner in which to explain it."

"Then spit it out man!"

"Harry Potter is a living, breathing **Horcrux**."

At this Trelawney shrieked in surprise. Snape's face went blank, but his eyes burned in a rage that, had he lived beyond the war, he would have likely seen burning in a little Severus Malfoy's own as well. "That is the link?"

"That is the link. I don't know how, I don't know why. But that's it." It was, of course, a lie. He did know how. He did know why. He'd read the books as a child, and while not completely factual, a much older Harry Potter had, will, later confirm that certain points were closer to the truth than he liked to admit. "In order to destroy it-"

"Harry Potter must die," Trelawney said sadly. "So that the piece of Voldemort that lives and thrives inside him may be destroyed as well."

" _'And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.'_ "

All eyes turned to the pale, pointed feature boy lying on the cot. "That's... what the headmaster showed him. What he told him."

There was a pause. Then Snape ventured to ask, "Are you awake?"

"Maybe? I'm not sure..."

Toby gave a slight nod. "It's safe to let go now, Draco. You're slipping out of the dreamscape."

"Mind palace."

This took Toby by surprise. "What?"

"Mind palace. It's what you call it. That place between waking and dreaming where you can enter deep into the mind. There's such strange things in yours. Strange, terrible things. Frightening things."

"How-"

"You really shouldn't have gone into Nocturne alone. You should have waited for your brother. For the aurors."

"Okay, that's enough!" Tobias shouted angrily. _"Finite incantatum!_ " he snapped, waving his hand and causing his own body to be bounced backward as Draco was jerked sideways when Potter sat up, emerald eyes wide open and filled with anger, an _Expelliarmus_ still hanging from his lips. Snape and Trelawney stared at Harry. Draco sleepily pried his hand out of the other boy's grasp. Tobias lay sprawled on the floor, lifting only his head to see the sight before him.

Harry Potter, awake and angry, with Draco Malfoy attempting and succeeding to placate him. Ease him back on the bed with a care Toby had not expected to see just yet.

Trelawney glanced towards the wolf, frowning in concentration when she saw him give a rather ridiculous grin.

"That was... unexpected. Sybil, I trust you will help young Mr. Black. I shall fetch Mr. Zabini to aid me further."

Tobias waved off the batty old Divination teacher with a groan. He looked pointedly at Harry and Draco. "We will speak soon." Trelawney followed him out of the room, across the common room, to the training chamber.

"What else did you discover inside his mind?"

Tobias had summoned a few volumes from the shelves. One of which he had recognized from his own childhood. A book on wild magic from the Potter family library. "Potter is free from the headmaster's chains. But not, I am afraid, from the Dark Lord. The _Horcrux_ remains, and he will die. But we will save him from death itself." He frantically flipped through the pages of the book, finding the diagram he remembered as a child. A diagram that muggle children across the globe wore proudly emblazoned across t-shirts, jackets, and more. He held it up for her to see.

"No. That way only leads to more suffering! We cannot ask-"

"It is either that or we let the Dark Lord murder an innocent child in a senseless war!" he roared, causing her to recoil in alarm. He quickly checked himself and quieted his voice. "I'm sorry... But you must understand, I-"

"You are fighting to ensure your own existence. I know." She raised a hand before he even began to protest. "The greatest feat the devil has ever performed was to convince the populace that he did not exist. I, too, have convinced those around me that I am useless. This is my greatest asset, as when I see into the future of those around me, no one believes a word that I say." She nodded. "Your grandmother will never be ready to understand. Your grandfather..." she glanced towards the door into the common room. "He already suspects the links between you. He does not understand, but he does trust you... But take heed, Angelo Tobias, that what you suggest will cause those boys more pain and suffering than they can bear. And it will forever change them. If you truly pursue the Deathly Hallows-"

"It is the only way. If you can see the future, you know this is true. You know that I am right."

Slowly, she nodded. "Yes."

"And you know the only other alternative is far worse. It will break them both in such a way that neither boy will ever recover. And the end result will be the same. Potter will need the Hallows if he is to survive the battle and win the war."

"Then this path it shall be. And may Merlin forgive us for what we're going to do. I must consult with Godric and the others. Their wisdom, I have found through the years, is quite valuable."

She walked towards the wall where she had placed Godric Gryffindor's portrait. He did not appear, but the frame opened to reveal a secret passage. Through this, she disappeared, the frame slamming closed quickly behind her. Still empty. Tobias frowned as he had stared after her. He did not like knowing there were hidden passages in and out of his private chambers that even he did not know.

**o0o**

Draco found him asleep at the desk, arms folded beneath his head. Books lay open and scattered about. Stacks of parchment, empty ink bottles strewn across the floor. Smudges on his face and arms from a long night of work.

It had been an entire day and night since Harry and he had woken, returning to the real world. Harry and Blaise sat for long hours during that time, speaking in whispers of secrets and deeds. Many of which Harry's own memory had been blurred on the details. He could recall them, because the Proxy Harry had lived them for him. But the specific details of life following Cedric Diggory's murder... hazy at best. With few exceptions. The wound created by the murder of Sirius Black was fresh once again. But this time, he wasn't numb. He was angry. Full of sorrow. Properly grieving in a way that the Proxy could not, because it did not understand it.

Draco could not bear to witness Potter's weakness. So he had left them to do research on Proxies, as well as the headmaster's tricks.

He went to the desk, looking at the things which Tobias had fallen asleep working on. Immediately he recognized one of the books. A children's book every child in the wizarding world had either read or been read to from.

The tale of the three brothers, he noted, had much to do with the research Tobias had been doing.

"Potter's cloak," he said aloud, reading part of the notations. "...Death Stick... stone..." He reached out and picked up one of sheaf of parchment. He frowned as he read through it. "What are you planning, werewolf..." he said, then saw the word **HORCRUX** in big bold letters. Carefully, he removed more of the parchments and stood reading through them.

Names. Dates. Objects. Listed carefully and described in great detail. Some marked out. Others...

"Known holders of the Deathly Hallows. When they had them. What they were called at the time... And how they died."

Draco looked back down at the parchment. "The headmaster had Potter's cloak?"

Tobias sat up and stretched his arms with a yawn. "Yes. And it got the Potters killed. Sit. Let me tell you the real story of the Three Brothers."

"Everyone knows the story."

"So I suppose you know that both Potter and the Dark Lord are descended of two of the Peverell brothers. And Potter's ancestor is buried in Godric's Hollow." Tobias shrugged, not having intended to actually tell Draco the story. Not yet. But rather to bait him into reading through his research. To stretch that magnificent mind to its limits trying to uncover the information Tobias knew by heart. Information that to him was ancient family lore. But for Draco... had yet to be discovered by Potter and Granger.

Draco's mouth hung agape as Tobias rose from his chair, popping his back with an aged grunt. "Pity. I was truly hoping to enlighten you on the heirs of Slytherin and Gryffindor. Might come in useful if you survive this war." Tobias wore a wicked smirk, one Draco saw in the mirror quite often, before he left the boy to snoop through his papers. "I'll go check on Potter, shall I? I think my sense of smell can handle it now that he's cleaned up."

**o0o**

Days passed before Hermione stirred. Trelawney had yet to return from her consultation with the long dead founders of the school. And Harry had finally been allowed out of the bedroom. Snape had often left and returned, still having his duties as the Death Eater spy to attend to. Though he never met with the headmaster alone. Tobias always accompanied him, unwilling to leave the professor alone with him. Each time they had returned from a meeting with Dumbledore Tobias and Snape locked themselves into Tobias's private sleeping chamber. Shouting and screaming were often heard from the other side of the door. Cries of agony as the two men repeatedly ripped any trace of the headmaster's charms from their bodies.

Often the two would emerge, the worse for wear.

Once, Draco had pressed his ear to the door, cupping his hands to block out as much outside noise as he could. What he had heard made him jump back, his godfather's agonized screams as the memory charm that had been placed upon him was shredded apart from the inside of his mind.

Blaise had come and gone frequently, passing them news and slipping orders to Dumbledore's Army... Which Potter had considered renaming since he had woken from the drugged stupor and was once again his rightful self. Toby had advised against it, as the sudden change would potentially create a schism of the forces and warring factions.

The day Hermione finally awoke, Harry had been sitting beside her, waiting hopefully for any sign that his friend would be alright. Refusing to leave her side save for taking to bed himself.

The two stones that had been clutched in her hands sat on a nearby table, never leaving her sight. Nobody told her where they came from, and the only person who knew she had yet to see. But she kept them close all the same.

"Memory," she said suddenly one afternoon while gazing at them. "The blue one. That's what it's for. Memory. A clue... The other-"

"A river rock from the Nile itself. Carved with the word _blaze_ ," Harry had said. "What could they mean?"

"It means," Hermione said, hugging her legs with the toes of her bare feet hanging off the chair in which she had ensconced herself this evening. "There is something I need to remember. _Blaze_ could mean heat, fire-"

"Light."

"Exactly. Our memories were tampered with, Harry. I'm meant to remember something that I was made to forget. Something that's still close to the surface."

"But that's not what you're worried about," Harry said as he looked from the stones to his best friend. "It's Ron."

She nodded silently. Harry continued. "Blaise told me he's been going mad trying to find us. Attacking Slytherins, thinking they betrayed us. Neville's rounded up some, but most of the DA has thrown in behind Ron since we left."

Draco had unceremoniously joined them, dropping himself wearily into the chair opposite of Hermione, and to the right of Harry. "With good reason. He's the only member of the Golden Trio left. You two disappeared not long after your mortal enemy, moi, shows up with a werewolf. What is everyone meant to think? Ron's the only one you didn't have working closely with a snake. He already accused me of bewitching you. Don't think I didn't hear about it, Potter."

"Draco-"

"And he's backed up by that sister of his. I show up, and suddenly Harry's gone round the bend and dumped the most perfect girl for him. Yeah..." he said with a yawn. "Doesn't look all that good for any of us, now does it?"

Hermione and Harry looked at him strangely. Draco hardly cared at the moment. He licked his fingers, reached up, and without looking put out the single flame burning at the end of a piece of his hair. "Fact of the matter is, she's all upset because she found out the headmaster's an ass. And you're enraged that you've been used as a tool by someone you trusted above anyone else, even your own best friends. The boy you always saw as an enemy is one of the only hopes you have, and even I've lost all influence I had in this wretched school. Your other friend is being dosed with muggle poisons and quite frankly the two men whom I trust to sort it are arguing over the validity of one root over another in the dealing of that problem. So, you two can either sit here and brood over all of this and how unfair life is, or you can get off your duffs and do something about it."

"What's gotten into you so suddenly?" Hermione asked with a bit of a sneer.

"I just finished with a rather difficult training session with my werewolf, and I have a rather hard time with wild magic. I can still feel scales on my back. They're quite itchy and uncomfortable, and causing me to have absolutely no patience with the two of you." He waved an imperious hand as if he were speaking to house elves. "Go and find some creature to set free into the world. That is what you two do in your spare time, is it not?"

Just when Hermione turned her attention to Harry in an attempt to get him to help her chastise Draco, Harry had burst into laughter. It made her words catch in her throat and refuse to be removed. She had not heard him laugh, not so deeply nor so wholly, since they were younger. Since-

"Fourth year," Draco said. "Yeah, I thought so, too."

"After the dragon challenge."

"Yeah," Draco agreed, then smiled gently. Harry wiped at his eyes, rising to his feet and unable to control his laughter. It was something, Draco and Hermione both knew, they would have to get used to again.

**o0o**

Trelawney reappeared, this time crawling out from beneath a table around which Harry, Draco, Hermione, Snape, and Tobias were sitting down for supper.

She stood, dusting off her robes and smiled. "Black, come with me a moment." She took the werewolf by the ear and dragged him with surprising force from the table, into his bed chamber. She shut and locked the door behind them. "Sit," she said, summoning a chair from the corner, knocking over a stack of books in the process. The chair knocked his knees out from under him, and he fell back into it.

"What's all this about?"

"All this is about Salazar Slytherin. He has a request, a single request, in order for us to gain his aid. And unfortunately the burden of carrying out this request falls upon you."

"What request?"

"You must make a wizard's oath first, not to reveal anything to anyone. Never speak of what you must be asked to do, or what you will come to know because of it."

"I will not make an oath, risking my magic, over something of which I have no knowledge going into it."

"Then all will be lost. Potter will surely die and remain so. Malfoy will be killed in battle as well. And you, dear Mr. Watson, will cease to be. And yes, I am well aware of your strange theories of alternate dimensions and lines of time. I am a seer. I have seen things of the future. But I assure you, everything I see before you will cease to exist. Everything I see behind you... will unravel until at last you will no longer be. Now, will you make this oath so that we may pursue the course of insanity you have chosen for these boys or not?"

"You know my answer," he growled, pulling out his wand to make the oath. She removed her wand as well, and the oath was spoken. The speakers bound. No word of what would now be known would ever pass their lips again. Though they both knew it would come to be known in other ways at another time after both were dust and sand. Caught by surprise, Godric Gryffindor appeared in a mirror nearby. It was odd, seeing a portrait in such a way. He was frowning.

"I went around and put a bit of paint on all of the mirrors, just in case they would be needed by the founders for emergency contact."

Tobias gave her a nod, admiring her ingenuity.

Gryffindor coughed for their attention. Once he had it, he began to speak. "My oldest friend has a secret. One that if known will bring great shame upon him once again, as well as those descended of him. He is a creature."

"So am I."

"Yes. But werewolves are quite common. My old friend is something new. Something even in our time all feared, when in fact it should have been himself who feared us. And rightly so. I count myself among those who turned on him. Made him into the vile wizard of legend. Nothing I can say or do will ever change the way he is painted by the brushes of history. But I can do this one act. I will tell you why he detests muggleborns and muggles so much. Why he became such a fanatic about keeping magic within the pureblood families only. And why he became the terrible dark wizard you have learned from your history texts.

"Salazar Slytherin is no mere creature. He is the first and only of his kind to have ever been born. His parents were both pure of blood. Magic strong in both families. So strong they produced a single offspring. A son. Imagine his mother and father's surprise when he was born... incomplete. They feared the worst, but loved him no less.

"Then, upon coming of age, he changed. His power grew to rival even that of the great Merlin himself. Strong. Wild. Free."

It was then Tobias realized he had heard this story before. Not about Slytherin. But he'd heard it. He'd watched it happen. "Nymphae..." he whispered softly to himself. "You mean to tell me, Salazar Slytherin, the great Muggleborn Killer was a-"

"Lover of muggles," Gryffindor said. "Yes. His... kind... can only have children by muggles. But Salazar was different. I must admit, I thought it strange as I watched my closest friend swell as a woman would with child. Hiding himself away in his Chamber for months on end before returning to us in the Castle Proper. Only I ever saw him in these moments, and only I could comfort him when his children were spirited away from this place, for their own safety, into the home of their father.

"They were found out, because of my carelessness. Because I had asked one of my apprentices, whom I had trusted and treated as my confidante, to take him food when I had become injured. My apprentice, a muggleborn, had spoken of Salazar's condition to others, and it frightened them. It was seen as unnatural. Many muggleborn in our time came from families who worshiped a god of fire and brimstone alongside forgiveness. Many of them feared him as an emissary of evil. And so, they set out to kill him.

"It was the one you call the Grey Lady who had saved Salazar's child that night. She had heard the unrest of the castle, and rumours of a beast. As I attempted to quell my lions, it was she who went to his side and birthed his only daughter. She told him the child had died, then gave her to one of her servants to spirit away. Instructing her to take the child to house Peverell, cousins of Slytherin and only known relations. They were to know only that Salazar was her father, but to never speak of her parentage. Keep her, raise her as their own.

"Salazar was found after the Grey Lady had left him to tend to the child. He was weakened by his ordeal, and was easily overcome. They bound him and dragged him through the castle before tying him to a board and dragged him into the village where your modern day Hogsmede stands. They found the children, and they slaughtered them. Making Salazar watch. They killed the father of the children before his eyes. And it drove him to madness.

"He had documented his experiences up until that point. His journals detail everything about what he is. What he discovered and learned. There are ancient scrolls and amulets. All of it was once guarded by his pet basilisk. Now, it must all be destroyed. Any trace of this great disgrace must be eliminated from all of history. For all of time. Only when this is done, will he consent to help the Potter boy."

Tobias was silent, taking in this new information. Information he did not know, that nobody knew. At least, nobody he had access to over the years. He frowned. Once more Tobias had been faced with an inevitable truth. In the rebuilding of Hogwarts in the aftermath of the war, the Chamber of Secrets had been found. It had been ransacked, turned over for all the secrets it contained. Then sealed forever. It was a well known fact, and not even Harry Potter himself had been able to get back into it years later. It had seemed to vanish... But even in the time it had been searched, nothing had been unearthed than what people had already known. Salazar Slytherin was a powerful dark wizard harboring deadly dark wizard secrets.

Trelawney glanced at him, then looked to her companion in the portrait again. "Mr. Black-"

"I have one request of Lord Slytherin before I consent to do this. I will do it, but not until I myself have spoken with him."

"No."

Tobias turned his ashen eyes to Trelawney, who shook her head. "Tell him," he said, never taking his eyes off the old divination teacher. "Tell him a child of Malfoy and Potter wishes to speak to him."

"He will speak to none save me of these things."

"Tobias, do not do this."

"He's a portrait. What's he going to do, wag his painted finger at me?" he replied with a smirk. A smirk, Godric noted, he remembered seeing on the face of the ill fated Lady of Peverell before her own death. He turned that smirk to the portrait of Gryffindor while fingering his wand... Wand... Of course. The problem of the wand! "There is something, one thing, only the progeny of a Nymphae could possibly know," he said. Tobias's eyes flashed brightly. "Ask him about his wand of manna ash with the muggle hair core. It must have been difficult to marry a non-magical substance to the wood. It works best if you weave it with the hair of a Meliae."

"What have you done?" Trelawney whispered angrily when Gryffindor sped away out of his portrait. "You may have just ruined everything!"

"I have research that's been incomplete for 100 years because of this pompous self-hating wizard. Do you really think I'm going to pass on the only opportunity anyone is ever going to have to discover the real first male of the species? I can't speak of it to anyone, I know. But I can at least learn something about the creature blood passed down through my family. I'll finally have the answer my family has been searching for all this time."

**o0o**

Pounding feet on stone. Red light of stunners. White and blue light of disarming. "My arm!" one of the hooded figures shouted, wand dropped and clattering to the floor.

Rowena Ravenclaw watched the exchange as it passed. Two heads of red leading a charge. Hooded figures running, defending as best as they could. Using non-lethal means as they escaped.

Where were the adults? Where were the professors?

"Take the small naga and go, we'll hold them off!" one of them, a taller one, shouted.

"We can lose them in the tunnel! Go go go!"

She moved her portrait from wall to wall, while keeping one near the two figures who were holding the red haired attackers at bay. Keeping an ear open in case she may need to alert someone.

"Hurry," she said to one of the figures. "Seventh floor. The Room is waiting for you. Go!"

The figure nodded, herding everyone they could together and making for the stairs.

Meanwhile the two left behind were losing ground. "Go Lionheart. I can handle these-"

"No."

"Stubborn Gryffindor."

"Exactly."

The pair continued to hold the line before finally being forced to retreat. One of the figures kept looking at the walls. Spotting the portrait frames. She shook her head, but said "Seventh floor. The Room is waiting." Like the rest of their party, they made for the Room of Requirement. At last, she had to leave them, making for her portrait in the war room.

"Helga! HELGA!"

"No need to shout love. I'm right here."

"Did they make it? Are they safe?"

"Who?"

"The children. Are they in your room."

Helga Hufflepuff faded for a moment, then returned. "Yes. Why dear? Is something the matter?"

"Seal your room off. There are two more on their way. Ask for Lionheart. Then seal the room if he is there. I will send Godric to collect them, and take them deeper into the castle to safety."

Hufflepuff frowned. "Rowena-"

"Children attacked children Helga. There is a blood lust in this castle. The time of waiting is over. We must get the Potter boy to act and quickly. Or else there will be no more Hogwarts to defend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, the story is NOT abandoned. It's unfortunately stuck in a state of perpetual delay. My sincerest apologies for this folks. I am currently working to get everything in my life in order, and this includes getting back to writing and posting more regularly. I'm shooting for at least once a month right now. - Sincerely, Lady Bryan (main SherlockWizardverse fic writer)


	20. 19. Passages

She appeared in the Room of Requirement, watching over the little cloaked figures. So young. So small. There were a handful of taller ones. Most of these remained hooded and cloaked. Some she recognized easily as frequent visitors to her hidden chambers. Members of Potter's little resistance club from the previous year. Beady eyes searched the room, before her voice bellowed out, calling for Lionheart.

One of the figures, lowering her hood, turned to the painting with a sad smile. "Hello, Professor Hufflepuff."

Helga looked down at the child with a sad smile of her own. "Miss Lovegood. What has happened here?"

"The little snakes have been getting bullied by everyone else so much. My friends and I thought maybe we could sneak them out to Harry and plead their case for him to come back to the school. These kids don't know much about what has been happening. They're just first and second years."

"Innocents caught in a war."

The girl nodded as the large doors opened and two figures came running in, slinging spells out into the hall before the door slammed shut again, then quickly faded. Luna's face lit up with relief.

" _Lionheart_?" Helga asked.

Luna nodded, moving back into the crowd to help Rachel and Zoe keep the first and second year Slytherins calm.

Hufflepuff watched the two figures who had last arrived. One had his face exposed. This she recalled was Mr. Zabini, a frequent guest of Harry Potter in Rowena's hidden chambers.

The other... The hood was pulled back from his head. And there, rising to his full height to catch his breath and set about tending to the children, was Seamus Finnegan. One of Gryffindor House's most outspoken students against Slytherin House. "Well well," she mused to herself. "Things must certainly be terrible if Mr. Finnegan has helped to save some snakes." She shook her head before bellowing out for all to hear her. "I have hidden this room. Try as they might, none will find it again until well after you have gone. This room will give you all that you desire. You need only think of your need, and it will appear. Rest here. We will find you a safer haven as soon as we can."

When Blaise looked towards the voice, the wall was bare, save briefly for a fading gold and black picture frame. "Well I'll be... It's like they really are alive," he said.

"Oh, Hufflepuff? Yeah. She's in and out all the time. It's awkward when the room turns up looking like the loo," Seamus replied.

**o0o**

Godric had returned looking quite grave, the mirror swinging open for Tobias to climb into and crawl through. Once upon the other side, he looked around the small chamber. "This," Godric said behind him. "Is the Lion's Den. The council chamber I set in place during times of war. We are in the heart of Hogwarts itself. From here are paths to secret treasures. The Chamber, The Room, the Sanctuary, and the Foundation."

"Thank you," Tobias said softly, taking a seat at the round table.

"I hope that you know what you are doing. Salazar is... difficult even at the best of times."

Tobias nodded, waving his hand to motion for Godric to leave him.

And so, he began his wait.

**o0o**

"Come quick! It's the children!" came a shout at the far end of the room. Harry looked up from his supper as Hermione took a sip of water.

"What's happened?" Severus asked, rising from his seat.

Helga Hufflepuff was flustered. She didn't know what else to say. She had been shoved out of her own frame by her dear friend Rowena. "Slytherin children have been attacked. They are hiding in the Room of Requirement. I have opened a pathway to a hidden sanctuary for them."

Snape and Draco were across the room before the others could get to their feet. "Take me to my students!" Snape demanded as the portrait swung open. Harry and Hermione followed into the dark tunnel. The four of them emerged in the Room of Requirement suddenly and without warning.

Snape immediately went to work, attempting to gather and calm the students. Silent, subtle nods to the older children who had come to the aid of his house. A deed that would not be forgotten by the potions master.

"Need all the injured over by Snape. Everyone else, go over to Miss. Luna!" Seamus shouted over the cacophony of voices. Blaise and Zoe were sorting the children according to their need as Snape saw to it anyone who had been hurt in the night's excursion were taken care of. "Miss Granger," he called to Hermione, shaking her out of her shock. "You will tend to the lesser injuries."

Luna and Rachel gathered the scared children around them, telling them stories to calm their nerves and handing out snacks the room had provided for them.

"How could this have happened?" Harry whispered.

Draco nudged his arm with his elbow. "Because you've been blind for so long. Blind to what has been happening under your very nose. Without my influence in Slytherin house, the older students have been using the younger students for target practice. I did not care if I had been well liked, only that I had been respected. This is the result of Parkinson's power play. This is the result of the wool pulled over your eyes. Year after year, Potter, it became worse. And now, without me to protect them within, and you to stop the other houses..."

"Are you saying this is my fault?"

Draco shook his head. "No. It's not your fault. You were used, as I had been used, as pawns in a greater game. We are both free, but this is the price that has been paid for it. The war is getting worse. Paranoid lions stalk the halls. Snakes hide in their unsafe dens. Ravens fly above it all, and the badgers..."

"... _The badger see everything_."

"What?" Draco asked, turning his head just slightly to watch Harry from the corner of his eye.

"The Sorting Hat! It wasn't trying to warn us about Voldemort. Not entirely. It was trying to warn us about this! About-"

"Ginny Weasley."

Both boys turned their faces to the lilting voice that interrupted them. "Ginny Weasley. She has carried a piece of the Dark Lord inside her. She has gained the trust and backing of those who did not agree with Harry accepting Slytherin students into Dumbledore's Army. Especially..." She let her eyes linger on Draco a moment. The boy only nodded in response.

"Harry-"

"I know what I have to do now," Harry said. "I can't hide here like a rat."

She nodded. Draco reached out to touch his arm, but held his hand back at the last moment. He let it fall back to his side. "I'll go see if there is anything I can do to help. I've learned a lot of healing spells in the last few months," he said. "It will help speed things along." He left the two of them, giving Luna a brief nod before walking off towards Snape and Hermione.

Harry watched him, then turned his attention to the others. "I'll help, too. Tell me what you need me to do, and I'll do it."

Luna's face beamed as she took him by the hand, dragging him along behind her. "Well, for one, you can help me tell the story of the Crumpled Snorkak."

**o0o**

He watched from the edge of his frame.

The wolf who would be man had seated himself at the table. Then, after a spell of time, had risen and paced the floor. Inspecting each wall. Inspecting each empty frame. Even his own, before seating himself again.

Fingers tapped. Knees bounced as feet could not keep still. Then legs were pulled up, and the man crouched upon the seat of the chair, leaning forward with his hands steepled beneath his chin. Eyes closed, ears alert to any sound.

And then, bored of this, he sat draped over his chair, balancing his wand upon his nose and staring at it cross-eyed.

Much to Slytherin's surprise, the wolf spoke. "Are you going to spend all night watching me from the corner or are you going to ask me how I knew about your wand problems?" He let his wand roll off his nose, and caught it before it landed in his lap. He set it on the table, but continued to finger it fondly. "You see, old sport, I've seen it before. Once with my own eyes, and the other... well... my father wasn't too keen on telling anyone how he managed to solve the problem."

"Muggle hair core, you said."

"Yes. My father wound his own hair with that of his mate and used that as his wand core. Manna ash wood. It was crafted in vengeance so the wood split at the first use. He used silver to bind it together. It worked as an excellent focal conduit. My older brother, also a Nymphae, used the same technique, minus the silver. Ash is an old family favorite wand-wood. My grandparents planted a tree on the family estate after my father came of age. But that is not what I am here to discuss. That was merely my way of getting through the door."

"Quite," was Slytherin's reply, but he did not show himself.

"Look, you hate muggles and muggleborns. I get it. I would, too if I were in your pointy wizard shoes. I get it."

"No, you do not!"

"Yes I do!" Tobias roared back, rising to his feet and facing the painting where he knew Slytherin hid himself. "Though it wasn't a wizard that tried to rip my family apart. Not at first! Hold your grudges if you like, I care not about them! But don't presume for one second that you hold a monopoly on melancholy and vengeance!" He was positively shaking with rage. He hadn't noticed that his grip on his wand had been tight enough some of the intricate lines of the carving work cut into his palm. It was, after all, only a flesh wound. "But my family didn't have a choice when the child of the bastard that tried to tear it apart walked through our door and... and was my brother's mate!"

He spat at the foot of the painting in anger. Anger that, admittedly, he had never before felt comfortable enough to express. In his old life, so long ago but so far ahead yet, he held his tongue. It was not his place to speak on matters of another creature's mate. And in the end he wanted his brother to be happy. Even if it was with the son of James Moriarty and Mary Morstan. "I had to welcome a psychopath into my family with open arms, never knowing if he would seek revenge for his parents' murders! At my own father's hands! So yes, I do bloody well understand! But I also understand that hate leads to hate and violence begets more violence!" He glared at the empty portrait. "You'd rather have a legacy of blood and death rather than let the truth get out. But know this if nothing else you pompous son of a bitch. The last one survived. And the children of Lady Peverell married high and they married low. One married a highborn wizard noble. Another married a Frankish aristocrat. And the third married a potter's son. The three brothers were powerful in their own right, but their adopted sister... Oh. I think I've just... Oh dear. I think I just solved one hell of a riddle about, well, Riddle."

This caused Slytherin to reveal himself at last, but he did not get the opportunity to speak.

"Sorry, gift of gab among other things. Look, I don't give two sheets to the wind your prejudices. I just want answers, and you won't give them to me outright. Before I destroy your stuff, I just want to have a look at them. I already made an oath never to speak of this to anyone. Never to reveal what I might come to know by accident. But I have questions, and I need to know the answers before I die. And this war will kill me, I've no doubts or illusions about that. It's the logical outcome for me in this situation. I need... your diary. And I won't take no for an answer, snake charmer."

**o0o**

Once the children had all been fed, healed and calmed, Rowena returned. Quietly she spoke with Luna Lovegood, and a special painting appeared upon the wall. "This," she explained when Luna had gone to fetch Harry and the other older children. "This is the only passage to the hidden sanctuary. I have many such places tucked away in this castle, only one of which had been made known to anyone. This painting, like my own portrait, will change. It will only recognize a small group of people at a time. This is for safety's sake. We often used these chambers during the Burning Times, to hide the children of witches and wizards even if they did not attend this school. In times of dire need, we have used this sanctuary to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"Will the professors be able to reach them?"

"Only six."

"Six?" Harry asked, frowning. He could only count three that he could trust in the current state of affairs. Snape, Trelawney, and Black. So who were the remaining three she spoke of?

Rowena smiled softly down at him. "Fear not, Lord Potter. The remainder will make themselves known when the time is right. Until then, trust that this castle is actively fighting to help you. All that we are and all of our power that remains exists in the stones. Our blood, our sweat, and our tears. Binding the four of us to this our home, our haven. Forever. This castle is a living and breathing thing. Too long we have remained silent. We have watched each passing generation. Dynasties rise and dynasties fall. Legends born and die in the blink of an eye. Only now are we moved to act. Children are used as pawns and weapons. No agency for themselves. No say in whether they should live or die."

She gestured to the painting near her own. "No more. This painting is their salvation. It appears different to each person who looks upon it. You need only speak, and it will know you and open. But if those within suspect deception, it will be closed to you forever."

"What about those inside the chambers? What happens to them if it is locked forever? They will be trapped."

She smiled, then shook her head and put a finger to her lips. "Some secrets, Lord Potter, are best left unspoken for now."

With that, she gestured to the painting again, and it opened. "There are rooms prepared for all. A small library to occupy their time. Games. Even a wireless, taken from Mr. Black's personal belongings. He will not miss it. There is a large common room. And a small dining hall. Fear not, they are well looked after. Please send all of the snakes within and return yourselves to your chambers. Events are moving quickly. Decisions must be made."

Blaise and the others hurried to Snape and explained the situation. Draco and Harry stood, watching as the head of Slytherin House led his youngest snakes into the bowels of the castle. Deeper than any dungeon in the structure. Well below ground where the protection of the castle's very foundations would keep them guarded from any dangers from above.

Rowena at last closed the painting, and it did indeed change. What it changed to, however, neither Draco nor Harry saw. For they were deep in thought and conversation about the state of affairs at Hogwarts, and what was to be done about them.

**o0o**

He'd gotten his way, in the end. He knew he would. There was no doubt that the old ghost of a man would cave in to his demand. Especially after he revealed what he knew of Slytherin's only surviving child. His information was a price he was more than happy to pay. He knew his misspent youth absorbing all of the information on the pureblood families he could find would one day pay off. If only he'd known then it was a predestination paradox, he'd have made the effort to leave behind a better note for his brothers and sister.

Alas, as he came across scrolls and books he read them. Committed them to memory, then destroyed them.

Save one. One he recognized from his childhood. "Well then... I know exactly what to do with you..."

It wasn't that he didn't TRY to destroy it. He did. He lived up to his oath, but it wasn't HIS fault the book was impervious to fire and any other number of curses of questionable origin he flung at it. So, instead, it was shrunk and tucked into his pocket for safekeeping as he continued the absorption and destruction of the remainder of the documents and information.

It was in the middle of a particularly large pile of parchment that he found a peculiar painting. As he cast light upon it, he could see little people walking out of the background of a gloomy forest. As they became larger he could see there were quite a few of them. Then, the painting swung open and out they poured, right in the middle of Salazar Slytherin's secret chambers.

"What the bloody-"

"Oh hello Mr. Black."

"Luna?!" Tobias looked around himself as students kept filling the room, followed by Severus Snape. "What's-"

"It's a long story," said a taller hooded figure. "There's supposed to be room and board. I don't see anything but a mess. Took a wrong turn-"

"No. She said to look for the door. I know it's here somewhere," said another taller hooded figure. He threw his hood back to reveal his identity as Blaise Zabini.

Tobias, still confused, scratched his head and started looking around for doors because, well, it seemed that's what all the cool kids were doing apparently.

"It probably has a secret door where you have to speak a special mystical language like Elvish," squeaked one of the Slytherin first years.

Another one grumbled. "Been listening to your uncles wild fairy tales again."

"They are not fairy tales! My uncle says that Middle Earth is real, and that the Elves we have today aren't REALLY elves, and-" and the rest had been drowned out by the other conversations and exclamations of the children around him. Though it did make Tobias smile to himself. Aside from the obvious reasons for his being in the time period, and the knowledge that he already knew, for the most part, how he was going to end up in the end of his life, his predicament was rather interesting from a historical perspective.

It was not often historians were able to watch history unfold in real time. Well, unless they were divination professors. And little things, like this moment as he searched for the supposed hidden door, and the finding of Slytherin's book on creature mating practices, reminded him it wasn't all bad. That kid's uncle would go on to write one of the greatest works of literature of the 20th century. It would be made into not one, not three, but six feature length films. Slytherin's personal copy of a book on creature mating would end up in the Potter-Malfoy family library. It would help Sherlock Holmes make revolutionary leaps in the field of creature magic research, herbology, wand craft, and even muggle chemistry. Research which would, through his third child, become proven facts and practices which would later be taught at wizarding schools across the globe...

These little things that history never seemed to know, but would become the foundations of some of the greatest achievements ever known, reminded him that there was a future. And that it was actually set in stone. The road to it, however, wasn't so rigid.

"Guys, is this it?" He called out, letting these thoughts fall from his mind as he pulled a table away from the wall. Glass tubes and fragile equipment falling away as he did so, unknowing that it was mounted to the wall. He was pretty sure it was the right spot, given that some of the stonework looked a bit like it had been ground into a rounded shape as if it were opened and closed in a tight and very snug fit. Glancing over his shoulder towards the first year who'd spoken about Middle Earth, he pulled his face into a wolfish grin and muttered under his breath a little glamour.

In the light from his wand, those who had come over to see could trace the silvery outlines and curves of a rather intricate design. One, Tobias would later tell to Trelawney in the years after the war, had come from a film he watched as a child.

"I told you!" the Middle Earth first year cried out. "I told you it was!" He puffed out his chest, held his wand up as high as he could to show the words, scrawled in imaginary dwarvish runes, the riddle. " ' _Speak friend and enter_.' See, I told you!"

Tobias chuckled, but kept it as quiet as he could as the two children bickered. "Well," he said at last. "What's the elvish word for friend then?"

The boy frowned then, until Tobias leaned in and whispered it to him. Then, beaming proudly, he turned to the door and spoke, while at the same time Tobias had dimmed the lumos from his wand and tapped the stonework until he found just the right spot. So, when the boy loudly declared " _ **Mellon**_!" Tobias opened the door for him. And it opened with a grinding, groaning sound into the darkest corridor he had ever seen.

He winked at the kid as Luna and Blaise took the lead, lighting the way for them. "Good luck," he said, waving them off. When the last child, the last of the tall, hooded ones, passed through the passage closed behind them. "My word..." he said, staring at the wall as the silvery design faded, the glamour lost. "That last one smelled like a Gryffindor."

He scratched his chin, realized he needed a shave, and then continued in his task. Slytherin wanted everything destroyed... Well, he was not going to disappoint.

" **Bombarda!** " he cried, pointing to a workbench of potions supplies, left to gather dust with the ages, then spun around to wave his hand towards another set of shelves covered in books that, honestly, he hated to see laid to waste. " **Incendio!** "

**o0o**

They stood outside the blank space of wall on the seventh floor, pacing back and forth three times. Over and over again.

But it was no use. The Room of Requirement would not open to them.

Neville Longbottom watched from the safety of a tapestry, with Hannah Abbot by his side. "What are we going to do?" she whispered to him.

"If they get close, we stun 'em and take Ron."

"What?"

"Shhh," he hissed as they continued to watch. To wait.

Neville's palms were sweating. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do next. Just that he had to do something. Ever since Harry and Draco had disappeared, the entire school had started acting insane. "Remember," he said. "Stunners only. They're still our friends."

"Even Ginny?"

He nodded, then turned his full attention to the students on the other side of the tapestry. "Especially Ginny." They were coming closer. Voices muttering in frustration. Some in confusion. Through the small space to the sides of the tapestry where it just barely hung away from the wall, they watched as Ginny and Ron stopped their pacing before the opposite wall.

"It's no use," Ginny said. "It's not opening."

"They're in there. I know it. It's the only way. See. It said Zabini. Lovegood, too. And Finnegan."

"That lying-"

"Now," Neville hissed. "They've got the map!"

Neville and Hannah jumped out from behind the tapestry, stunning anyone they could to keep them from getting to hurt in the fray. Ginny clutched the map, Harry's map, as she and Ron tried to back away. From a portrait down at the far end of the corridor came reinforcements Neville had not anticipated.

The corridor was a flurry of red stunners and white shields until finally a stinging hex was shot out from the end of the corridor. "Hurry, it won't last long!" Hermione exclaimed as Ginny grabbed at her wand arm in pain.

Neville nodded. " **Stupefy!** " he heard Hannah cry out. He rushed forward, bent over to catch Ron with his shoulder. Hannah came up the other side, doing her best to help pull him through the unconscious students as Hermione and, surprisingly, Professor Trelawney provided cover fire for them. They ducked between the two women and hurried inside to find a nice, peaceful, warm common room.

Ginny, on the other hand, clutched the map tightly, with her good hand and watched the dots of Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbot, Hermione Granger, Sybil Trelawney, and Ronald Weasley disappear from the castle. She glared at the end of the hall, watching the woman with dark hair glaring back at her, her clothes morphing and shifting before finally settling on a nice mix of blue and bronze armor before she and her frame faded into the stonework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that does it for August! See you guys again next month with a new chapter! (For anyone curious, the issue of Toby's age will be addressed in the next one. Have gotten a lot of feedback before about it. It's time to finally answer that question!)


	21. 20. Messengers

 

"You bloody fools!" His voice roared like an angry lion through the chambers as he emerged from the tunnel that led to the Room of Requirement. Draco was hot on his heels. "What do you think you were doing! They would have killed you!"

"But Ron-"

"Isn't in his right mind and-"

"He's our friend, Harry!" Hermione snapped back.

Draco got between Harry and the others, Neville looking rather anxious. But Draco stood his ground. "You of all people, Potter, must understand."

"We needed to get him away from them. From HER! While you've been hiding in here like a coward we've been fighting to survive! The professors won't do anything, and-"

Hannah was clearly distressed. "And Ginny put anyone who wouldn't join her under the Imperius! Harry, she used an Unforgivable!"

"Then it wasn't Ginny! Where has Pansy been all this time, eh?!"

"I believe," Trelawney broke in. "I have a way to uncover the truth. If Mr. Weasley has been cavorting around this castle with his sister, he will carry her scent, will he not? And if he has been cavorting around with an imposter..." She cut her eyes over to Ron, laying motionless on the sofa. "Well, we do have someone who would know."

Draco stole a glance around the room, then looked back at Harry. "It's worth a try. Let's do it. Let's have Black look at him. In the meantime, we can track Pansy. Find out how things are going in Slytherin."

"Slughorn is head of Slytherin House now," Hannah said quietly. "When professor Snape disappeared this last time, the headmaster made the announcement at breakfast the next morning."

Neville nodded his agreement. "I don't like the way things are going, Harry. The Order's up to something. Dumbledore's Army is breaking apart at the seams. Friends are turning against each other no matter what house they're in. And it's not yet even Christmas."

Trelawney looked past the teens towards the training chamber. There emerged Tobias, ragged and tired. She quietly put a finger to her lips when he caught her eye. She slipped away from the arguing teens; Harry becoming furious more and more while Draco attempted to calm him down.

Together the two adults went into the training chamber to discuss the recent chain of events.

**o0o**

Hours passed. Hours turned to days. The Founders reported back often of changes and discipline. Of Dumbledore's Army taking action against Slytherin House, both innocent and guilty of wrongdoing. Trelawney and Tobias had been absent, and Snape had worked with Neville and Blaise to help cure Ron of the poison in his blood. Poison that Hermione had sussed out had gotten into him through his food.

But his eyes... his eyes were still glazed. Ron Weasley was still a prisoner in his own mind. And thus he had been restrained, for his own safety, in one of Rowena’s hidden rooms.

Out in the castle unknowing professors fretted over where a large number of their first and second year students had gone. Those who were Order members remained on high alert for any sightings of Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy. The Headmaster never failed to turn up at Harry's favorite haunts, and kept an eye on a certain snowy white owl.

Eventually, Snape had ceased teaching entirely, leaving only to do his secretive work gathering information on the Dark Lord and reporting back not to Dumbledore, but to Harry himself.

The world, it seemed, had gone pear shaped. And in the middle of it all, Ginny Weasley held her new-found power within Dumbledore's Army with an iron fist. It became clear to all who saw them that she had gone mad with power. Power gained through the absence of better and more honest wizards.

When at last the winter holiday had rolled around, as many students as could manage left the oppressive walls of their school. Some would not return come the start of the year while others had no other choice.

In the time leading up to the winter holiday, each faction sat and waited. Toiling away in secret, watching and alert for the movements of the others. It had become a three-way stalemate. Until, the oddest letter came by the most unlikely messenger...

The house elves knew where Harry and his friends had been hiding, but their loyalty was to the castle itself and not a mere headmaster. No elf would ever tell the whereabouts of the most famous of Elf Friends. And so it was that Winky the house elf appeared with a silver tray, topped with a silver dome. Beneath the dome lay a letter, and a single china cup. And it was not to Harry Potter that these were presented. Oh no... It was to Tobias Black, the resident werewolf of Hogwarts Castle, that Winky brought this message and steaming cup of tea.

At last, Tobias knew it was time. Time to come clean, once and for all, as to his reasons for being here. As to his purpose, his life, and all that fell between.

"It's a trap," the others had warned him when he lifted the dome to discover the contents. The silver blistered his hand, but he supposed that was intended. A message, and a warning. Tobias had looked at Draco, his charge and then to Harry, his liege. He gave a rather good impression of a Malfoy smirk before picking up the china cup. "I know," he had said, then downed the tainted tea.

Within moments, Winky wrapped a spindly hand around Toby's wrist and the pair vanished. The letter was left behind, and it was this Trelawney had snatched up, fearing it may give away far too much far too soon. When she had read it over, she allowed the others to see it.

It said simply, in the familiar handwriting of their school's headmaster, "Drink, and let us discuss terms. Alone."

**o0o**

"I felt it best," came the familiar, charismatic voice when Winky and Toby blinked back into existence. Tobias looked around quickly to get a bead on his surroundings. The location was vaguely familiar, yet he could not quite get a good grasp on the rhyme or reason behind it. Dumbledore continued. "That we do this away from the students."

"Yeah," Toby said as Winky disappeared once more. He stretched his neck a bit, trying not to scream at the familiar burn of Veritas serum pumping through his veins. A particularly stronger batch from what he was used to. No doubt brewed by an inferior hand to Severus Snape's. "Well wouldn't want to break that caring old man image now would we?" He checked to ensure his wand was still tucked safely up his sleeve in it's holster. Not that he needed it, but it would be wise to keep track of the old thing. "Our opinions might come to blows."

Dumbledore stepped forward, arms out and palms open to show he held no ill will nor intent. At least, the appearance of peaceful parlay. "I'm sure we will be more than able to reach an agreement. We fight on the same side, Tobias."

"That may be, but I don't go around poisoning children. Nor do I enslave them to my will when they show minds of their own." He spat, the gob of saliva landing on the ground just barely missing the headmaster's feet. Within moments he felt the poking and prodding at the edges of his mind, the familiar feeling of intrusion such encounters with this man left on the fringes of his consciousness. "You can stop poking me now. I've taken the shit batch. Drank it right down like a good little pup. Let's talk terms."

"First, let's discuss what we each seek to gain."

"You want Potter back. You think Draco and I have some kind of hold over him. But it was we who broke your charms and freed him from your bondage. Did you know he was a horcrux?"

"Yes."

"And you don't want to talk terms of our surrender, but of compromise," Tobias said with a smirk. "Now, the folk I've left behind, they're going to think we're striking up a deal. Really, you just want answers and reassurances that the children will be safe. Because you've seen the damage they've done to the school yourself. Ginny Weasley's run wild. Pansy Parkinson's going to let Death Eaters in, all to get rid of you and Potter..."He paused, watching the old, dying wizard and shook his head. "This is your attempt to make peace, isn't it? You're dying. You've got loose ends that need tying. And you need Potter at your side to present a strong front to the Enemy. With him in hiding, chaos has broken out. You can't keep your own fortress in order, and it shows weakness to the Dark Lord. It places the school, the children in danger."

"Precisely." And with that, the attempts to gain access to the werewolf's mind ceased. "I am not a bad man. I have made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. I will not apologize for what I have done, nor for what I still have yet to do. But I need to know where you stand. Your allegiances. And that you will not allow Harry to fail. The world depends on his success in this war."

"I stand where I have always stood. With my family. Blood is thicker than water, old man."

"There is more to it, I believe, than your loyalty to young Draco Malfoy." With that, the old man had his wand out and had already flung the spell speeding towards the werewolf. He barely had the time to block it, summoning up an energy shield with one hand while reaching into his sleeve quickly for his wand.

"This is it then," Tobias barked, a note of hunger in his voice. "You'll go down fighting!"

Dumbledore threw another spell, a bright crackle of electric blue energy towards him. Tobias lowered his protection and countered with a blast of his own. Bright and wonderful orange-red. A stunner, of sorts. With a mighty sting if he could only manage to get it to land.

Back and forth, across the headmaster's chosen field of battle. Cracks of thunder in the night as the two magical titans clashed wands and lore. Each man marking the other in an attempt to overpower. To outsmart. To conquer the will. On this field, in the dark of night, there was no room for disarmament. There was no wish to compromise without first testing one another's convictions.

Haggard and out of breath, but still pressing on the two men took to attempting to catch one another by surprise. Apparating and disapparating to launch and escape attacks. A blur of brilliant white mist and smoke twisting and turning in the night sky with it's brilliant golden mirror. Until, at last, the two clashed spells as ancient knights clashed swords of old.

A sight seen only by those present in the graveyard that fateful night when the Dark Lord returned to the land of living souls. Priori Incantatum was cast as the Wolf and the Phoenix pushed their all into their words of power. It was an accident, or perhaps the two wands had taken on a life of their own as they found one another matched.

Whatever the reason, Tobias was taken aback by the evidence of the headmaster's wrongdoings. Presented here before him as their wands judged one another and their opposing masters. Dumbledore himself was impressed by the slew of magical spells Tobias had cast with his own, the echoes of them exploding outward into the bubble that surrounded the two men. Dark magic, impressive and powerful magic he had never before seen. And yet the echoes, the eddies of time that had been encased with them spoke not of death and destruction, of wickedness and evil of the soul, but of good and honest works. Of honor and protection and loyalty.

Tobias saw his opening, and he took it. The headmaster was distracted. Whatever the spell cast against him, he had to allow himself to be hit by it, and suffer the consequences. It was the only way to break the connection forged between them without changing the chain of possession of the Elder Wand. He allowed his wand arm to falter just a little. To waver his resolve and then the world went pear shaped.

Tobias was flung through the air, slamming into the ground and skidding with the momentum of the curse that he had allowed to smash into him. When he came to a stop at last, the headmaster was bearing down upon him. Just as he lost consciousness, he felt the tendrils of triumphant invasion on the edges of his mind. Having taken the tea, willingly taken the potion within it's steamy goodness, he had opened himself like a book. There was little he could do to stop him...

And that was exactly what he had wanted.

Before losing consciousness, he'd been smiling. He had, in the end, won.

Because the thing about the Malfoys.... nay, the Holmes line...

The Mind Palace was home turf.

**o0o**

They were running out of options. Leaving a guard on the door to where they kept Ron, the others regularly took to the training chamber. After Toby's departure with Winky, Trelawney had retreated into the bowels of the castle to Merlin only knew where. Neville and Hannah stood guard over Ron. He was their responsibility, having effectively swept him right out from under his sister's nose.

That left Hermione, Luna, Blaise, Harry, and Draco to continue trying to find a way to free Ron from the curse that enslaved him. Draco and Harry worked under the assumption that it was similar to the curse Dumbledore had placed on Harry as a child. Hermione and Blaise felt it was most definitely the Imperius. While Luna... Well, Luna was under the impression that Ron had been placed into an eternal nightmare where everything was exaggerated into an extreme parody of the truth and that his mind simply could not comprehend it. Well, that and wrackspurts.

Whatever the cause or case, the teens were having a hell of a time trying to sort it out. As such, they were currently taking a break for lunch.

Well... except...

"Look here!" Blaise exclaimed, finding a half-burned scroll and spread it out on the nearest table. He knocked over inkwells and stacks of books in his haste, but he could not contain his excitement. "They're notes about the Dark Lord, but look!"

Hermione's eyes widened when she saw what Blaise had been directing their attention to. "I've seen this before!" she shouted in equal excitement. She hurried to her feet and ran to the room that belonged to Mr. Black. She returned with a book, tattered and partially burnt. "The handwriting matches this here. I think it's referring to this plant."

She lay the book open on the scroll for all to see. Harry glanced at Draco, who recognized the other handwriting on the scroll. Not for the same reasons Harry did, but somehow... Draco recognized the handwriting of the student who'd written in Harry's potions book.

"Perhaps," Draco started, then frowned. "That plant is exceedingly rare. It's difficult even for pureblood wizards with connections to get hold of. One would need to know the exact amount needed for the antidote."

"It's a common tactic used by the Dark Lord," Blaise said. "At least, it was in the first war. I can contact my mother, see if she can get us some for an antidote."

"We don't even know for sure," Harry started, but was interrupted by Hermione.

"We have to try something! Let's assume Luna's hypothesis is correct. It would explain so much about Ron this year, and every year between now and first year. Mr. Black and Professor Snape both agree that whatever muggle drug was used on Ron is now gone from him. But he's still... This might be our only chance, Harry."

The room was silent as Harry considered the situation. Normally, he would turn to his mentor... but it was his mentor that had done this to his friend. To all of them. At last, he nodded to Blaise. "Find a way to contact your mother. See if she can help us with this if she can... Hermione, Draco, we are going to do what Mr. Black did for me."

"No way."

"It's the only way we can be certain what's going on inside of Ron's mind."

"It nearly killed you," Draco said flatly. "And who are we going to risk this time? He hates me. And you're too valuable. Luna and Blaise aren't close enough, and the other two..."

"It has to be me," Hermione said quietly.

Harry stood and began pacing the room in agitation. "Merlin, we don't even know HOW to do it without Mr. Black."

Draco looked away. Turning his attention back to the scroll. Back to the handwriting. The handwriting that matched the book Tobias kept in his room. Charred, like the scroll. Pulled from the bowels of the ruined home in Godric's Hollow. Paired with the handwriting of his godfather, Severus. The way his godfather had wanted the book, but Tobias kept it from him. The way he had reacted the first time the werewolf had mentioned it... It could never have been James Potter's book. Lily then. It had to have been Lily Potter's book and handwriting. The two had been friends, up until...

He found himself shaken from his thoughts when he felt more than one pair of eyes on him. "What?"

"You've practiced with Black. You know how he took you into my mind," Harry said. "You're the one who's going to have to cast the spell over Hermione and Ron."

He sighed. "It's not that easy Potter. For it to work, I must be touching Granger's skin. Granger must be touching the Weasel's skin. And the Weasel isn't interested in getting near enough to anyone unless it involves ripping our collective throats out. So how do you suggest we do this?"

Eyes turned to Harry now for the final decision. One that he clearly had already thought of, but did not wish to voice. He swallowed hard. "We will have to restrain him. Bind him to the spot. Force him into unconsciousness."

Eyes turned to Draco now, but he would not agree so easily. "And who do you suggest do this? Weasel may not be bright, but he is incredibly strong in the realm of physicality. I have witnessed with my own eyes how much punishment that boy can take before finally falling. Are you sure you can handle turning your wand on your own best friend?"

There it was. The thing no one wanted to say. No one wanted to acknowledge. Only Harry was strong enough to ensure Ron would go down and stay down. Draco may have been able to do it, but his role in events would prevent him from doing so. Draco watched Harry's face harden, but his eyes were clouded... misted as if Harry, the real Harry, wished to retreat from the situation and allow his substitute to take over. Draco narrowed his eyes at him, subtly shaking his head. "Can you do it? Can you potentially harm your best friend and remain objective during the entire ritual? No matter how he may cry out, how he may beg or plead, could you bring yourself to force him to obey your will? Because if you cannot, Potter, then there is no point in continuing this line of thinking, and this solution will not work."

Draco rose, giving the others a curt nod. "Until he has an adequate answer, I will research what would be needed, if it is needed, to facilitate the spell work and ritual. Excuse me." He left them, taking the book Hermione had fetched with him. Into the training room he went, and locked the door behind him.

**o0o**

He found himself in a strange, noisy place. Foreign shapes dotted the skyline. Large metal boxes zoomed too and fro as men and women in strange dress walked past him and around him. But never through him. Despite many of them looking at strange devices in their hands, they were able to navigate around him, and other parts of the scenery.

"Welcome," said a confident voice beside him. "To 21st century London. Well, near the end of it rather. The year is 2074. This was the last time I had been to London. In all honesty, I've toned down the distractions for you quite a lot. Come. I'd rather avoid seeing myself and my family at the moment."

"Why have you brought me here? What purpose does dragging me through time serve?"

"Time? You think we've traveled in time?! Oh no. You wanted into my mind. Well here we are." He moved to stand before the headmaster, arms out and he spun around in a circle. "Every inch for you to explore. I figured this would be the kindest place to start you out. Wouldn't want you suddenly appearing ankles deep in a dead body, or in the middle of my monthlies, now would we?" He went for a door, opening it into a hallway. "Come along. The answers you seek lie this way. And boy are you going to be surprised."

It was then Tobias felt the sensation of the other man leaving. He felt it first at the base of his skull, but smirked. "Don't bother trying to get out, old man. Not until I let you out. Now you can either come along quietly, or I'll drag you kicking and screaming. But you need to see what will be come of Harry Potter, and what hangs in the balance if you keep forcing him down the path you've chosen for him."

"Is this how you convinced Narcissa Malfoy to give you power over her only son?"

"I hold no power over my grandfather. But yes, I did this for Narcissa. Not to convince her of anything. Only to give her hope in a world of torture and agony." He slipped into the hallway, and the movement at the base of his skull ceased. He felt an inquisitive, but untrusting aura coming from the entity he had allowed in his mind with him.

He walked forward through the halls, searching for the special doors. The unmarked and sacred doors that looked like those in his favorite places. The hidden paths and secret panels of his grandparent's home. And then, there it was... He felt the wand at his back, but knew it could not harm him in this place. He pressed his hand to the door and sighed. "I've never shown anyone this. Not my wife. Not my children. Not even my siblings and parents. This... this is one of my earliest memories. But it will show you why I'm fighting so hard. Why I'm pushing your limits and refuse to back down. This is what is at stake for me in this senseless battle."

He let his hand slide down to the knob. Whispering the secret words to open it. Then, he stepped inside. He waited for Dumbledore to follow. "If you truly wish to know the truth, this is all you will ever need to know."

Dumbledore stepped into the dim room. It was hot, almost unbearably so. A blizzard raged outside the window.

The room was large, and lit by a massive fire which caused long shadows to fade into the darkness.

A four poster bed sat to one side of the room, facing the windows. Sitting on one side of the bed was an old man. A cane stood leaning against a nightstand. The old man's features were exaggerated in the dancing light of the fire. As Dumbledore drew closer to the man, he could see a book open in his lap. And a small child laying against the pillows.

"I was a sickly child. Born far too soon and kept alive through my father's sheer bloody will and magic alone. My grandfather doted on me. Both of them did. I think... I think they knew when I was born who I would later become."

Dumbledore stopped beside the bed. He watched as the boy beneath the blankets watched the old man. Smiling weakly, and even laughing a little as he read to him.

"Draco was injured one Christmas when my parents were visiting. It left him with a lifelong injury, so the cane is not a cosmetic accessory." Tobias came up behind Dumbledore, then past him. "On this particular night, I couldn't sleep. I've been prone to nightmares, you see. It wasn't until my time plotting away with Narcissa in Malfoy Manor that I realized what it was. The night terrors weren't imaginary. They were quite real. Echoes through time, reaching me from my future."

The door opened behind them, and Dumbledore turned. The outline of the figure in the hallway was taller, larger, but very familiar to him. "Harry..." he whispered. The man in question walked into the room, holding a tray with three mugs, a kettle, and some treats. He looked tired, but happy. Happier, the headmaster realized, than he had ever seen the boy. Clearly worried, but content. He watched as a small table moved across the room without having to be summoned, and it was here Harry set the tray down. He poured hot water into each mug, and once more without a word or any other indication of action, the silver spoons that lay on the tray dropped into the mugs and stirred the drinks themselves. Then, just as silently, they rose up and lay together where they had started from.

"I thought we could use some chocolate," Harry said, bringing two cups to the old man and the boy.

The boy struggled to sit up, and when he managed to do it, took his cup greedily. "Easy does it, Angelo. Drink too quick and you'll end up with a stomach ache," Harry warned.

The boy slowed down.

"Why this memory?" Dumbledore demanded of him, finding that Tobias had crossed the room in silence as Harry had made their drinks. The werewolf now stood at the window, watching the snowstorm outside. "Why?!"

"Why not?" Tobias asked in return. "You've wanted to know why I fight. You've demanded to know my loyalties and my allegiances. I have allowed you to test my powers. To test my magic and my will. I have allowed you access to my mind, a place very few have been allowed to enter. And yet you still ask why..."

He felt the headmaster's approach before he heard or scented him, and knocked the imaginary wand out of his hand, knowing that it was safe to do so in this place. "Because of what happened AFTER," he snarled, directing Dumbledore's attention to the two men. The boy in the bed now fast asleep. Harry and Draco sat near the fire, warming their hands across from one another.

"It's getting worse," Harry said, sighing. "I don't know what they expect us to do with him... Hermione can't find anything about what is happening to him. We've had the best doctors, the best healers try to help him but..."

"You know what it is. You've known from the moment you read Tobias's will. Awful things happen to wizards who've meddled with time."

"We don't know-"

"What more evidence do you need, Harry? He's having nightmares of things very few people alive have seen. He's screaming of a war that happened over a hundred years ago. We only have two options. Risk everything and strip him of his magic, thereby changing his destiny."

"It will kill him!" Harry hissed angrily. "You know how weak he is. How sick he is..."

"Or we seal them away. We block them from his mind whenever they appear. Hide entire sections of his memory if we must."

"I swore I'd never... after what happened to us... to Ron... What that bastard took from us..."

Draco moved to the edge of his seat and reached across, taking Harry's hand. The pair were silhouetted in the light of the fire. "I wouldn't make you do either one, Harry. But we have to do something. If we don't, it will drive the boy mad. You know what he is capable of. What he grows up to be. Do we really wish to risk everything we've built, everything good in this world, by letting a powerful wizard like him loose without some sort of moral compass? You know I'm right."

"We can't just tamper with a child's mind like that. I won't."

"But we will." It was then Draco turned his face to Dumbledore, staring straight at him. "If only to pass along a message."

"What-"

Draco rose, dropping Harry's hand. "In the original memory, Harry and I leave the room now. Just as he is about to do in three... two...." Harry rose, as if on cue. He moved to the bed and gave a gentle kiss to the cheek of the boy sleeping there. Tucked him in, and left the room. "One."

"See, this memory isn't mine," Tobias said with a smirk, leaning against the window frame. "It's his. Planted here, just for you."

"And can only be found and then accessed when there is Veritas serum in the blood. Pumped through quickly and aided by adrenaline due to perhaps a duel. No mere spar will do, however. We had to ensure the right person came here, now. It's taken me over a century to work out how you muddled with Harry's mind. And as you just witnessed, Harry and I were forced to do the same to our own grandchild. To save him from himself. But we were far kinder than you ever were. The locks break down over time. Allowing him to remember the nightmares, but being much older and more worldly, they would not be as terrifying. They would not drive him to utter madness."

"Close to it, though," Toby chimed in. "Alcohol can do wonders though. Just saying."

Dumbledore walked to, then around this false Draco Malfoy. Scrutinizing every detail of the imaginary man before stopping before him again. He was distrusting. And this entire time had continued to try and leave this strange place. This falsified memory chamber. But he continued to find he was unable to do so. "How are you keeping me here!" Dumbledore demanded.

"Very damn carefully," Tobias quipped. "You wanted answers old man? Well here's your bloody answers. Right from the snake's own mouth!" Before the headmaster could fully turn, he found himself unable to move. "Now then... I've always wondered what may happen to the human body when it no longer has a mind. I imagine it's similar to what happens after a Dementor's kiss. I could kill you right now if I wanted to. Erase your mind. Steal away all those little secrets..."

"Angelo..." Memory Draco warned. "What have we said about murder?"

"Never in the house. And don't tell grandmother."

"And..."

"It's better to let your enemies suffer the knowledge that they live because you didn't feel like killing today."

"Exactly. Now then... Headmaster. You and I are going to have a very frank, very honest discussion about what is going to happen when you leave here. And trust me, if you do not agree to terms, Tobias is indeed bound to obey my every order, and Harry's. And before doing this, we both agreed to have him tear you limb from limb. This memory is our insurance policy. Our ticking bomb if you will. Ticking quietly away in the mind of a child for nearly 50 years."

"This is-"

"Morally wrong? Absolutely. But you left us no choice. The Harry and I of your time are ill equipped to finish the war you started. The bonds you foisted upon him are breaking. If I remember correctly, Harry himself is in hiding, and students are fleeing the school rather than allowing themselves to be caught in the crossfire. Students have turned against one another, and the castle itself is barely holding together by McGonogall's sheer force of will alone. We will come to terms, or everyone will die. There is no possible outcome in which the Dark Lord is destroyed and Harry wins unless you stand down and let us do what needs to be done, in the manner we need to do it."

Memory Draco motioned to the chair Memory Harry had been seated in. "Please, have a seat headmaster. While I do not fatigue in this place, surely you do. I once extended my consciousness into the mind of another, and it was an exhaustive and painful experience. The sooner we conclude our business, the sooner Tobias can release you from this death-like trance your body is currently placed in."

Memory Draco had a devious, but pleasant smile on his face that caused his aged features to appear almost playful. Dumbledore hesitated, but did relent. There was no point in fighting in this place. If what he had seen thus far were true, and this strange wizard with his strange ways had come from the future, then perhaps...

"There is still hope," Memory Draco said as he seated himself. "For you, what you have seen here tonight, the world has yet to see. But for him," he cut his gaze away towards Tobias by the window. "It is a fact of his past. Events are moving in such a way that, should he fail, it will cause a terrible chain reaction. He will die here, having never been born. His revoked birth will in turn leave me to take the Dark Lord's mark." As he spoke, Dumbledore sat down in the chair that had been offered opposite him. "If I were to become a Death Eater, I will have been forced to kill you and allow other Death Eaters into the school. Once in the school, they will take over. Harry and his friends will be forced to flee, searching the country for a way to defeat the Dark Lord. In the meantime, many innocent lives will be lost. Harry will not have the knowledge he needs to destroy the Dark Lord, for Harry will not have been told of the horcruxes in time to find them all, and will not know to look inside the golden snitch until too late, and will not know how to activate the Deathly Hallows. In the end, the war will return to Hogwarts, and it is there that Harry will be killed. Of this there is no doubt. And he will not return to life... he is a Horcrux. And his life must be sacrificed so that the piece of the dark soul inside him will be utterly destroyed. And it will be destroyed, headmaster. And Harry with it. Harry's death ushers in a new era of wizard domination and muggle subjugation. A second Dark Ages as muggles are enslaved and destroyed. All wizards found to be of muggle stock are burned alive. Millions, nay, nearly five billion innocent lives will be lost, and their blood will be on your hands.

"Or," he said, pausing. He leaned forward to fix himself a fresh cup of the imaginary cocoa. He offered some to Dumbledore, who politely refused it. "Or, you can allow Tobias to complete his mission. He saved me so that I may in turn help to train Harry and educate him in the dark arts and to control his wild magic. He saved me so that I could break the barriers you placed on Harry Potter's mind. He saved me so that Harry and I would survive the war, and go on to engineer the means with which our world is saved from utter annihilation and the Dark Lord is destroyed. He saved me, so that I may clear up YOUR mess."

He sipped his imaginary cocoa. And he leaned back in the chair, watching the headmaster over the rim of the cup with that patented Malfoy smirk.

"How could you know these things? How could you know of the destruction if it did not take place?"

There was a silence that fell over the room then, save the cracking of logs on the fire. Tobias moved from his place at the window. His strides were slow and careful as he came up around Memory Draco's chair. He reached down and patted his grandfather's shoulder before moving on to the fireplace. To stand before it, an arm pressed horizontally against the mantle. He wished he could feel the artificial warmth more vividly. But since it was not his true memory... there was only the suggestion of warmth from these flames.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "It was a broken time tuner I used to get here. 'Awful things happen to wizards who've meddled with time.' I undershot my landing the first time. Didn't spin it enough I guess. I ended up in a place you would call a slave camp. Barely escaped thanks to the full moon. Infiltrated a pack on the hunt. The were descended from Fenrir himself. Had to retrieve my time tuner back from some Snatchers. Took me a few more days before I finally came to the right place and the right time to join the chain of events. During that time I was able to piece together what I could of history. History that to my knowledge had never happened. I existed in a pocket of what we in the future would name temporal flux, or something like that. Sounds like a good name for it. By actively working towards completing my mission I ensured that I continued to exist. When I give up... I begin to feel the effects of death. Slower than anyone else, as history is rewriting itself. It's not easy. And some days, some days I don't even know if I'm real or not. But I keep doing what I have to do. Fighting back tooth and claw, because it's the only option I have. I've seen the world where I never arrived. I've seen the world where I've failed. And I come from a world where I succeeded."

He smiled weakly, thinking of the world that would come after. The smiles, the laughter. The warmth and the love. The beauty and the wonder of a world that would one day embrace magic and witches and wizards. The integrated townships where muggle and wizard lived side by side. People working together for a better life. A better world. He was just starting to see the fruits of his uncle Mycroft's long labours in his own time.

He wondered how his family were doing. If the announcement had been made, and how it had gone over with the people of Earth. He would never see it, not as it will be. Not as his own descendents would live in it. But knowing what was possible, what could happen after his own departure... He couldn't help but smile. "And it is a beautiful world, Dumbledore. A wonderful, noisy, beautiful world. But only if Harry is taught to harness the power inside him. A power you have glimpsed and out of fear have tried to destroy or control. That same power exists inside me. I can teach him how to use it right. _But only if you will give up your attempts to control him_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Fanfic writer's block hit in September and I couldn't shake it till a few days ago. Consider this extra long chapter a 2 for 1 deal. September and October's chapters rolled into one. Now then, back to writing! I've got November to finish and December to outline!


	22. 21. To Live

 

Harry stood outside the room in which they kept his best friend. He was conflicted.

Turn dark magic on his oldest, most true friend at the behest of one who had been an enemy... Or listen to his heart and find another way. One in which he would have no need to turn his wand on the youngest Weasley son.

To add more problems to his proverbial plate, Black was still missing, and Dobby had reported that Snape was no longer in the castle.

"Are you deciding whether to have the chocolate frogs or the every flavor beans?"

Harry turned his head just slightly to see Luna from the corner of his eye. She beamed at him.

"On the one hand, chocolate frogs are tricky if you let them sit too long before eating them. Hard to catch, even harder to eat. On the other hand, you never know what flavor bean you're eating until you eat it. Could be lovely caramel. Or it could be dirty dishwater. You just won't know until you try it."

Harry considered her words carefully. With Luna, you always had to. Her brilliance had always been shrouded in nonsense. But... it did describe his dilemma rather well. Should he let Ron out, try to help him, to reason with him, and in the end may still have to turn his wand on him... Or should he just go with the plan already discussed... either way, he won't know which is the right answer until they do something. He won't know if anything will work if he doesn't make a decision.

"If it were me," she said, offering him a small polished sphere. It was Neville's remembrall from first year. "I would follow my stomach. Don't think about it too hard. Just act. It is, after all Harry, what you are best at."

Harry closed his hand around the sphere. Chocolate frogs and remembralls. Ron and Draco. "I might just have the beans." He pocketed the ball and left the hallway and Luna behind. He needed to talk to Draco first. Get more details of what the spell or ritual or whatever it was entailed. They may be clues as to how they could do it as carefully and humanely as possible.

_**o0o** _

Tobias came to then immediately rolled to his side and vomited the contents of his stomach. Which hadn't been much. The tea, really, as he hadn't eaten all day. Even then, there wasn't much. Staring down at the frothy puddle in the dirt beside his face, he was reminded why he had stopped practicing this particular craft with his brothers and sister. He was weak. Had always been weak. For all his mastery and bluster, the effects such... simple spells his family could do always left him the worse for wear.

How long had he and the old man been fixed in such a state? Clearly it had been some time. Light flooded the clearing now. He knew exactly where this was... and wanted as far away from it as possible. This... was a creature killing ground. Where people took their children who became Other and...

"Why did you bring me here?" he choked out, scrambling to his feet.

Dumbledore coughed, staggering a little after the strange experience. His legs were stiff, having been frozen in position for, he estimated, two days. "In case extreme measures were necessary."

Tobias was, needless to say, enraged. This was one of hundreds, nay thousands of secluded places in the world where one might murder a creature born child, and claim anything they liked. However... there were other matters that required his attention. Solace in the fact that the headmaster would be dead soon would, must, be enough. "Do we have terms?"

"What dark magic was that? To be able to share your consciousness and walk among another man's mind is-"

"Very difficult to master. That was no trick. I did not plant fake memories in your mind, and you did not walk among mine as a false shade. You see that my mission must come first, before my own safety. My mission is to ensure Potter and Malfoy survive this. At any cost. And if that means mowing you and every member of the Order down to ensure this, then by God I'll do it gladly and with a smile on my face."

Defenses were down. The walls hiding the secrets of this man before him temporarily removed. He could extract anything he wished from this werewolf's mind, and the werewolf would let him. But likewise... this man knew the outcome, knew the costs of this war. And would live up to his word. Albus could do anything he wished in this moment to this man's mind, but the beast within would remember. The beast would hunt him, hunt them all, at every full moon. He had seen this man's mastery over the beast, and it was fearsome to behold... for the beast retained an intelligence others did not. The beast was...

"My fail safe. I embraced the wolf, and by doing so unlocked it's potential. My potential as the wolf. But you know what it's capable of. Like clockwork, it would resurface, lusting for revenge. For justice. Even if I, the man, have been made a mindless and babbling infant. But... you knew this already. You learned about my kind when Remus Lupin came to Hogwarts as a boy. Rather than teach him to respect it, you taught him to fear it. Now he's a grown man, addicted to poison, and nobody wonders why he always looks so sickly and tired. If Lupin didn't die in the Battle of Hogwarts," he said, spitting on the ground at Dumbledore's feet. "Then the wolfsbane would have. I'm simply glad his son never had to watch his father's mind slip before delirium sets in, and then utter madness in the days before death. That's no way for a war hero to go. With an infantile whimper like a beaten dog."

Tobias clutched his wand tightly, ready to fight again if he must. "I've seen what happens whether we win or lose. Either way, you're dead at year's end. Only question is will it be the end of the school year, or the end of the calendar. I'll kill you now if that's what it takes. I am, after all, a dark wizard."

Albus considered this for a few moments. If what he believed had happened had indeed happened, and if what he had seen had indeed been the future world that the man before him had come from... he had no reasons to lie. No reasons other than self preservation, the strongest reason of all, to ensure events moved in the correct direction. "You don't have the stomach for it."

Their wands were raised once more, green streaming out of Tobias's, the wand itself seeming to groan and scream in response as it was met with red. A red stunner against the tell-tale green fire of the Killing Curse. Each wizard deflected the other's spell with much difficulty. But in the end they were standing. A little worse for wear... Tobias remained with wand still pointing, smoking from the tip. "Terms or death. That's the deal. Your death or mine, doesn't matter. But know that in death my words will scream the truth to those who have heard them. You have already lost. Concede and we will end this here and now, and I'll not raise my wand in anger again."

_**o0o** _

"There's no going back if we do this. We must press on until it is completed. We will go into Weasley's mind, and we will attempt to undo the damage that has been done. But I must warn you..." Draco did his best to remain confident. Though with the sparse notes his companion had left behind on the process, and what little he had been able to learn on his own, he was as far from confident as a wizard could be. "He may be outside of our help. We can only go in and find him. We can only guide him. Weasley must break through on his own."

Hermione nodded her understanding, having spoken at length with Harry about what she should expect, and what state Ron's mind may be in.

"This is assuming," Draco continued. "That he is under similar influences. Neville and Luna have been instructed on the proper physical care. To help assist with... restraint and potions. Blaise is on stand by, to assist Harry. These are very strong and very dark magics we are working with. One false move, one misstep, and we risk killing your friend. Will you be able to live with yourselves if this becomes the case?"

Harry and Hermione turned their faces away. Then, determined she looked back at Draco. She met his steely gray stare. "Ronald would never give up. He would do everything he could to save us. And we for him."

"Potter?"

"I'll do what I'm told. You just make sure you can help free him."

Draco looked down at his notes, and gave a nod. "The potions will be ready at midnight. We will begin then. Dismissed." He waved his hand, dismissing them from the training room. Hermione stood as Draco turned his back to them, to resume his work. She looked from Harry to Draco and back again. The two friends communicating, in their own way, silently behind his back. Finally, Hermione threw up her arms in a huff and left them.

The blond was not oblivious to the scene behind him. "What now Potter? Can you not see I'm busy-"

"I thought we could, I dunno, just get out of here for a while."

Draco sighed, slamming the book he had begun skimming closed. "In case you have forgotten, we are in hiding. If we leave these rooms, your friends in Gryffindor will try to kill us on sight. I quite like living."

"There's other places we can go-"

He spun around. "Oh really?! With the minions of the Dark Lord prowling outside this castle trying to find me, and you for that matter, and the school itself in utter chaos thanks to not one, but TWO women scorned, and you just want to go prancing about like there's nothing to worry about! That's right, the Headmaster doesn't want to kill you, he just wants to teach you to kill yourself!" He threw the book, uncaring where it landed or how. A hand flew to his face, rubbing at tired eyes before pinching the space between them in an attempt to relieve the pressure that had been building for weeks now.

"It was only a suggestion."

Draco whirled on him, glaring daggers. "What is it like in your tiny little brain, Potter? Never having to think. Always jumping to a conclusion without considering the consequences of your actions. It must be quite nice to completely shut off the parts of your mind that control impulse and higher thought!"

"Did you just call me an idiot?!"

"Well there you go! Its seems you ARE capable of complex thought!" He fingered the wand in his sleeve, watching Harry's movements carefully. Just as he had anticipated, the other boy pulled his wand on him. And so they stood, their movements mirroring one another, with Draco faster on the draw due to Potter's predictability. But neither boy uttered a single spell. Neither cast their influence beyond the tips of their wands. Both knew that if a single curse or hex were set loose, Draco's blood oath would force Harry's hand. It would force him to assert his mastery over the other boy. But Draco didn't care. Almost welcomed the pain that would come of breaking his oath. The agony of his magic rebelling against him until finally, if he were even left alive, he would be powerless. Could leave this meaningless war behind and live out his days among the muggles.

Crippled, but free.

Then, at last... "Why do you hate me?" Harry lowered his wand tip.

"I've never hated you."

"Then why fight me?"

"Because you represent everything I stood against. We all grew up hearing stories of the great Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Then here you are, pure blood from a powerful and ancient family. Everyone giving you special treatment because of something you don't even remember. Allowed to break the rules, break ancient wizard law, while the rest of us suffer the consequences."

"You've-"

"No one else would remind you that you're just some stupid kid like the rest of us." Draco at last lowered his wand, against his own personal desire, but it was necessary. "Someone had to remind you that you're just like the rest of us. Bleed like the rest of us." He slipped his wand back up his sleeve. Harry at last fully lowered his wand. "And that you can die like the rest of us."

Harry nodded his understanding. After so many years of fighting, most of it seemed to slot into place now. Ginny had worshiped him. Random men and women had shook his hand in the street out of the blue in the muggle world. His scar had been his ticket to fame – had led to so much trouble... by rights he should be dead. He knew this. He just got lucky. His mother's life protected him. If she had been too late.... "But you would never let me die," Harry said with a smirk. "Because then your life wouldn't have meaning anymore. If your purpose is to make sure I don't get an inflated ego, then you also have to make sure I don't die a heroic death of any sort, to ensure all of that hard work you've put in doesn't go to waste. If I die in battle, it's all for rot. But if I die choking on a treacle tart-"

"Then I can die happy knowing that you were killed in a very ridiculous and utterly normal manner. Just like the rest of us."

"What if it were a poisoned treacle tart?"

"Then I'm going to ensure I was the one who poisoned it."

"So only you are allowed to kill me?" Harry couldn't help but smile at the possibility that Draco may actually be jealous of the Dark Lord, at least a little. "So you're going to protect me just so you can kill me. What about your blood oath? If you try to kill me, it will kill you."

Draco smirked at him. "Then I'll kill you with kindness. There are more ways to kill a man than violence and deception."

"You forgot cunning."

"I'm a very ambitious man, Potter. Ambitious, but patient. I could spend the rest of my life watching you, waiting for just the right moment to do you in."

"Is that a challenge, Malfoy?"

"You have to live through the war first, Potter," Draco said, a devious gleam in his eye. "Before that, we need to save your idiot friend. So, here's a list of binding spells I've come up with. Far stronger than what we've learned in classes." He used his hand, not his wand, to summon the roll of parchment from the desk, flinging it at an unsuspecting Harry. "You've fought the Dark Lord more than once and lived, so these shouldn't be a problem."

He used his hand once again to summon more and more parchments. "Volumes 2 through seventeen. I'm considering calling the work 'Binding and You: Master the Art of Binding Spells', what do you think?"

Harry clutched the first roll, and tried not to let himself get pelted with the rest as he hurried from the chamber.

_**o0o** _

There were no words for the pain he felt wracking his body, nor the sudden rush of relief when he had apparated into the empty glen. Potions poured down his throat and a warming charm cast over his form. Words of gratitude mouthed as Snape sat, watching the young man slip into unconsciousness. Spells of the young man's own creation, taught to Snape for such purposes, were uttered as one by one, the hexes were lifted. The curses were broken. Layer upon layer of what should have been agonizing magic stripped from his body until, at last, Tobias lay silently.

At peace in his own mind as he recovered from the encounter with the headmaster. The fact the young man had appeared, triggering a chain reaction set up months in advance, told the potion master much that words could not. A series of Chinese whispers beginning with a simple bird, making it's way to Spinner's End in mere moments of the young man's arrival.

He did not know how Tobias had accomplished the setting up of his signal, nor how he knew when to have it in place. However it was effective nonetheless. And served to tell him the news he had been awaiting with much anticipation. An agreement had been reached. Terms given and accepted, by both parties. Now they could move forward with their efforts to build a proper resistance against the Dark Lord. Free, for the most part, of the man who would be king of the mountain.

However, for now, he sat. Safe in the charm that had been cast over the glen. Hidden from all the world as the wolf recovered.

_**o0o** _

It had taken all of them to pin Ron down so that the manacles could be clasped on Ron's wrists and ankles. In the time between when they had abducted him from the battle and now, he had become crazed. His body having turned against him, sickened in the fight against the unknown addiction that had afflicted him.

Draco had been forced to use a silencing charm, taking the time before it had broken to magically seal Ron's mouth closed to prevent further stray magic from flying around the bed chamber.

Once their friend had been restrained, Hermione fled the room. One look from Harry, and both Neville and Draco were on her heels.

She had thrown herself into a cushioned chair, leaning on the arm and sobbing into her sleeve. Neville approached her and placed a hand on her back before kneeling down to face level with her. Rather, as close to level as he could manage. "Hermione..."

She looked up at him, then past him to Draco. The boy fidgeted under her gaze, and would not meet her eye. He had never liked the Weasley boy, but he had never wanted to inflict such pain as the boy went through now. A broken arm here or there, or unseated from his broom by bludgers- but never something so traumatizing as what he now endured.

"There is no other way," was all he could say. Trying to keep his voice even. To keep the hopelessness he himself felt from the words.

Hermione glared daggers at him. "Is this what Harry went through?"

"Not to this extent."

"Did you need to chain him like an animal?"

Draco shook his head.

"Look at me!" she screamed, and Neville winced when her shrill voice erupted right next to his ear. "Look at me when I speak to you!"

He turned his silver gaze to her, willing his face to remain calm. In truth, he was just as frightened as she was. He didn't know if he could replicate what Tobias had done for Harry. He didn't even know if he were strong enough to build the mental world and navigate around it as Tobias had done prior to their entrance into Harry's mind. But there was no choice now. He had tried to give them the option to find another way. He had tried to take his time, to drag out his research but in the end...

"No. He was not chained." He tried to maintain a sense of clinical detachment as he spoke. "He was, at the time, dying. His body had become riddled with toxins and his organs, according to professor Snape, had begun to cease function. His magical core was beginning to tear him apart from the inside. The boy had been barely held together by sheer force of will and Dumbledore's mental bindings." He paused, then softened his expression for her. "There was no need to chain Harry because we believed Harry would not survive. Weasley, however, will survive. He is sick, and he is not in his right mind. The chains are for all of our protection. Most importantly his own.

"We do not know the effects this will have on him. He may become more violent. He may become docile. He may become an entirely different person. For all that we may know, he may have a spell cast upon him that when broken, will cause a hysteria so complete he may try to harm himself to end it. These precautions help us, and him, to remain safe no matter the outcome."

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, then her nose. "Promise me," she said coldly. "That you will not allow him to die."

Draco stepped closer, outwardly he maintained the detachment to the situation. Inwardly, he had been shaking like a leaf. He held out his hand, as he had all that time ago to Harry Potter on the train. Hermione looked at it hesitantly. "Miss Granger," he said. "I swear on my life, Ron Weasley will get through this. If I fail, I will gladly hand over my wand to you personally."

The only reason she took his hand then had been the sincerity in his expression. He could not see his own face, but she and Neville could. And in their time hiding in the secret places of Hogwarts, they had only seen him look like that when he spoke openly and honestly. And only with Harry.

If Harry could trust that face, then so too would Hermione.

The door to the bedchamber opened. It was Luna. "They are ready for you now," she said softly, eyes haunted. By what, they did not, could not know. And chose not to try and guess. When they rejoined Harry and the others, Ron lay in the bed, arms and legs shackled to the posts. His breathing shallow, and his face twisted in a mask of pain and rage. Blaise stood on the opposite side of the bed, a strip of cloth tied at his elbow. Splotches of red showing signs of attack.

"Let's get this over with," Harry said, forcing his tone to stay even and firm. "The sooner this is done, the sooner we have Ron back."

Hannah helped Hermione onto a cot, ensuring she were close enough to touch Ron's exposed hand. Hermione stared at the manacle clasped around his wrist, at the places in his skin where the metal had cut. Red oozed from slowly healing wounds encircling her friend's wrist. A thick salve had been applied, and the room smelled faintly of dittany.

Draco had pushed his cot closer to Hermione's, to enable him to take her opposite hand. "It is important that you maintain physical contact with Weasley. You are his anchor to the world. If you break contact, he will be lost, and you may not be able to come back to us." He signaled to Blaise to bring over a draught. "This will help you relax. Just focus on your happiest memories with Weasley. This will give you something to focus on, and will allow me to guide us into that memory."

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"No. But this is the only chance we have to get your friend back. I... I only wish I had the same opportunity to try and save mine." He sighed, and gave a weak smile as he accepted a draught from Blaise. He downed it quickly, abhorring the taste but there was nothing for it. He did not have the focus Tobias had. He could not drop into the hazy state necessary to facilitate this act. So, he had to force it as best as he could. Blaise took the bottle back from him, clasping his hand over Draco's and giving it a squeeze.

He wanted to save Pansy just as much as Draco did. But they both knew she was beyond their help. She now had the Mark. There was no hope for her now.

Draco settled back. Hermione drank the horrid liquid and handed the bottle back. She reached up and took Ron's hand in her own, holding it tight. Then she felt Draco's hand take up her own. It was awkward and sweaty. "Close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths," Draco said as Harry stood watch. His wand never lowering from it's position. Never breaking the spell that kept Ron docile and unconscious.

He gave Draco a subtle nod, and the other closed his eyes. He began the quiet chant he had found in Tobias's notes, remembering the other man had been able to cast without speaking. A skill Draco had yet to fully master.

Soon, all was black. All was still. The only sense had been that of touch, the smaller hand in his own holding tight. And then, a burst of blinding light. Then, stillness once more.

They stood in a field, looking down the hill at a rickety building. "The Burrow..." Hermione said softly, letting go of Draco's hand and running down the hill.

"Granger! Wait!" he cried, chasing after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the severe delay. Working on about 5 projects near the end of last year, and now updating another fanfic. I'll do my best to post another chapter of this before the end of the month, to catch up. Thanks everyone for reading!


	23. 22. To Dream

Tobias wasn't sure if he were dreaming or had woken from the dream. The smells, so rich and pure and strong. The sensation of warmth and comfort. The softness of the cushions beneath him. The sense of rightness. Of safety.

Then a whiff of sweetness. Vanilla and cinnamon and the taste of honey on his tongue.

.....But it was wrong.

_"Angelo, we're going to be late. Hurry up!"_

It couldn't be right.

_"Come on sleepy head!"_

He opened his eyes.

There she was. His beautiful, wonderful chestnut goddess.

He reached out to brush her curls, highlighted by the warm light of the fire. **_"Matilde..."_ ** he whispered.

"Is dead. Now don't get sentimental. You know what that does to your critical thinking."

He shot up, finding himself in the clearing with arm outstretched and hand closing on air. His head whipped around, looking for the owner of the voice that had shocked him out of the pleasant memory. He rubbed at his eyes with his other hand. It smelled of wet grass. The air smelled of the outdoors. Trees, grass, pollen, flowers. "Where-"

"Sussex," Snape said, rising to his feet and allowing the conjured stool to reform into it's native shapes of rocks and sticks. "Just as we agreed." He offered a hand, looking down at the werewolf.

Tobias shuddered, shaking off the last of the memory. "Are-"

"You have told me of your wife's death, Black. She and your son were killed as a result of an accident during travel," he intoned. "And your brother's middle name is Hamish."

At this Toby reached up and gasped the other man’s wrist tightly. "It's done," he said. "Go to Hogsmede. Gather those you can. Tell them Christmas."

"Christmas?"

"Yes. And don't forget to visit Aberforth. He'll know what you mean. Now go. I've got work to do and you shouldn't be around when I do it."

Snape shook his head and gave the other man's wrist a squeeze before releasing him. A silent nod, and a crack of thunder. Severus Snape was gone. Toby paced the glen, counting off to himself before stopping still. "You lot can come back out now."

From the edges of the glen they came. The beasts and birds of the wild. One of them shifted forms, from owl to boy. It was the boy who came toward him, one eye scarred shut. The flesh still pink and slightly rosy. A recent wound, Tobias noticed. But mostly healed. "You look rough, Wiggins."

"Comes with the job," the boy replied. No more than twelve, maybe thirteen if he was lucky. "Got a message you want me to take back to the others, boss?"

He nodded. "Yes. I need every bird and beast watching the castle in Scotland. Round up as many as you can, and move north. Also, I need you to deliver a letter for me. It is vitally important that you not be seen. Enlist some of the other Irregulars if you must. I haven't got anything to write it down with-"

"Oh I've got a memory like a steel trap, sir. Tell it to me, and I'll pass it along easy enough."

Tobias thought long and hard about what he needed to say. Short, but something the recipient would understand... while others who may find it out would not know it's meaning. Then, at last.... "Go to Lady Malfoy. See that she still lives. If she lives, tell her... _**Grandfather is restless. But he is doing fine.**_ Only she will know the meaning."

"And should she ask who sent me?"

"Sherlock," he said, knowing also that she alone would know the clue hidden in the name. For in this age of darkness and fear, it only carried meaning between she and him. She who was to die long before he would ever live. For that name helped to cement his place in this world; had helped her decide he was worthy of her aid, and appointed protector of her son. "Sherlock Holmes."

**o0o**

He managed to catch up with her just outside the shed. He pulled her behind it, out of sight from the house.

"Let go of me," she hissed at him. But instead he held her tighter. His fingers digging into the sleeves of her school top as he held her forearms firm.

"We can't just go blundering in there, Granger."

"But it's-"

"Look at me. Remember who I am? If I go chasing after you, something will go wrong. We have to first make sure I look like someone else. Someone who Weasley would not instantly attack in a blind anger."

"We don't have any polyjuice..." she said, calming herself as she tried to think of a solution.

"This is a dream world. We don't need potion. Only some sort of basic understanding of magic. A spell to change my appearance, or my voice will do. We must think of who I should look like."

"Someone familiar, otherwise he will get suspicious. One of his brothers maybe? Bill or Charlie. They're not around often, so it would be easier to slip in as one of them."

He shook his head. "That won't do. I need to be someone I've seen, too. Someone I can impersonate."

She nodded, chewing her thumbnail in thought. "Well," she said. "It would have to be someone from the DA. Ron is very... untrusting when it comes to people now. Ever since last year when Cho's friend told on us... But there aren't many outside the core group that I think he would open up to. Even then, there's not many who would come here."

"If he doesn't know it is a dream, he may not realize the person is out of place. He may just assume I'm supposed to be here, if I'm at least a familiar face."

"Then who could you copy, and copy well enough to get Ron to trust you?"

He was silent. He knew there could only be one answer, as did Hermione. He'd watched the other boys and girls that crowded around Harry, but that was only because they never left him. He had made a study of Granger and Weasley, and of Longbottom to a lesser degree. Even Lovegood had become a curious person of interest for him. But the only one he had truly observed and committed to memory was Potter. It had always been Potter. She knew just as well as he did that it was his obsession. And his jealousy.

She sighed. "Okay... just make it quick. And do your best not to speak as properly as normal. Remember, Harry was brought up by muggles. So... be uncouth and ignorant of your usual..... You-ness. And don't get angry when he starts to speak ill of you. The poor boy cannot go more than a few hours without complaining about you, Draco."

He nodded his understanding. She turned away, knowing there was no true need to do so, but she did not wish to see her former enemy turn into her best friend. When she turned back, it seemed Harry stood in his place. "The wand-" she said, noticing that it did not change with him.

"Won't be a problem here," he said, hiding it up his sleeve. "The wand isn't real."

"But we are real, right?"

"In a sense," he said. "Think of this as a giant pensieve, only instead of just watching, we are able to interact with our surroundings. And with others in the dream."

"We can get hurt."

"Yes, we can. So be careful not to make him angry." He coughed some to adjust his voice before speaking again. It was almost Harry's voice that came out after he uttered something under his breath. "Let's go. I do not know how long we will be able to keep this link. So we must work quickly."

She followed him as they made their way to the tall, ramshackle house. "What are we looking for, Dra- Harry?"

"Trust me, you'll know it when you see it."

**o0o**

Her faith was shaken. Not in the cause, for she knew it to be just. Not in her fellows, for even those not in the ranks of the Order were loyal and true. But in Albus.

Since the night Severus had disappeared, and chaos had broken in the school, it were as if she had been delivered from a haze she could not explain nor place. Since that night, when Potter and Granger had disappeared – something was off.

Chaos continued, but it was shrouded in secrecy and hidden from the waking eye.

Severus's position had been given to another in the Order, who taught in his stead. And Albus... He had disappeared often, leaving her in charge of a school she could barely keep in order. Her own house had turned into a den of revenge and retribution, and half the students in Slytherin had simply disappeared in the night.

The ghosts refused to help them locate the missing, and parents sought to hold the school responsible. The Ministry now threatened them with closure.

Minerva McGonogall was at wit's end with nowhere left to turn.

Perhaps that was what had led her to climb the tower. To seek the most unlikely of council. She had, in her mind, nothing left to lose.

When she had climbed the ladder into the Divination classroom, she had found it empty, save for two china cups and a fresh pot of black tea. A note that simply said, in Sybil's flowery hand, "Wait."

She had been sitting for what felt as if hours, but in reality had been mere moments. Out of the gloom, Sybil came. She sat across from her old friend, and quietly poured her a cup of tea. With the silver tongs, she dropped one cube of sugar into it, and stirred it with a tiny silver spoon.

"I've been waiting for you to finally come up to see me," she said with a calm, serene smile. "How are you, Minerva?"

Unsure of how to answer, she simply replied that she had been well. But the school... the school was in trouble.

Sybil had waited patiently, sipping her own tea as slowly Minerva opened up to her. While the Divination professor had always known Minerva's opinions on her profession, they had still become friends over their years working together. The deputy headmistress had even stood up to the ministry sneak, Madame Umbridge, in her defense. Something she would always be grateful for.

Once Minerva had finished, Sybil reached across the tiny table and patted her hand. "It's alright, dear," she said. "I'm sure it will all start to make sense soon. After all, Christmas is right around the corner. A time of miracles, togetherness, and forgiveness."

"I simply do not know if I can hold this school together that long."

"You've done a fine job with what has been dropped in your lap. Lesser witches have crumbled under far less than what you've been dealing with. It will be fine. I assure you."

Minerva gave her a grave look. "Have you been drinking the sherry again, Sybil?"

Trelawney patted her old friend's hand again. "Potter sends his love. As do Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. Among others. Here, have some more tea, dear."

Minerva's eyes widened, then narrowed as she watched her. Pouring another cup. Dropping another cube of sugar and stirring it. Then, it was offered back, and Sybil made herself a second cup.

"What do you know of Potter? What's happened to them?"

"Christmas is a lovely time, isn't it Minerva? The last hurrah before the start of a new year. An excellent time for new beginnings, wouldn't you say?"

"What are you not telling me?"

Trelawney thought for a moment. What should she say? What could she say? Watching her friend all the while, she smiled a secret little smile when she had become sure Minerva's eyes were opened, no longer dimmed with an intangible, heavy film. Able to see more clearly than she had in quite some time... "My dearest Minerva. Potter's been here the entire time. He, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. And so many others. Hogwarts protects them, as it always has. From the dangers without..." she paused, took a sip, then set her cup down. "And within. They will re-emerge at Christmas. A deal, from what I understand, has been brokered between Albus and young Mr. Potter." Before Minerva could question where she had gotten this information, which in truth she had foreseen, she added, "For now, let us take comfort in the fact that the children are safe. It's your house, for now, that you should concern yourself with. There's poison there. A cancer at the heart of Gryffindor that has been growing these past four years. If you don't root it out, Death Eaters will be the least of our worries."

**o0o**

They had crept to the house and tried to go in as quietly as they could with Hermione leading the way. The scene before her was just as she had expected only... not quite. It was the kitchen she herself fondly remembered, but frozen in time. The charmed sink had stopped in mid-wash. The brushes in mid-scrub. The pots on the stove were in mid-stir, and the flames in the fireplace did not move as they should have.

"What is this?" Hermione whispered.

"Tobias has endless hallways with doors leading to his memories. Harry has the Hogwarts Express."

"And you? What do you have?"

Draco didn't answer. "It seems Weasley's mind is a sort of ordered chaos... What is this place?"

"His home," Hermione answered. "It may not be large and grand, but it's filled with kindness and love. An open door to all in need of help and understanding."

Draco nodded. He did not feel remorse for having picked on the youngest Weasley son about his lack of wealth. Nor did he feel ashamed for having harped on how ill-made a home he must have lived in. But he did not understand a little better why Harry had, in some of his memories, viewed this place as paradise compared to his uncle's home. And why the Weasley family seemed to spend a great deal of time at Grimmauld Place. Instead he said, "Wealth means nothing if one uses it to defend false ideals."

Hermione had expected a harsh retort. Or a smug little smirk and stinging words. But had been surprised and caught off guard by Draco's words. Not an apology, but an admission of at least partial ill treatment. It was, she surmised, the best she would ever get out of him. "So..." she said. "What now?"

"Focus on Weasley. In these places, doors are the key to finding the right memories. Find the right door, and we will find the correct Weasley. Once we find him, we will be able to dig deeper and discover the root of the problem. As his anchor to the waking world, you will be able to feel what he feels. It's through this bond that we will be able to find him."

She nodded her understanding. Closing her eyes, she thought about Ron. She focused heavily on a happy memory they had shared. But it was difficult. The longer she stood in the frozen kitchen, the more she felt angry. Angry at the headmaster for what he had done to cause them to take such a drastic measure. Angry at Harry for not trusting them from the start. Angry that Malfoy had replaced them-

She stopped thinking and took a deep breath. She had not expected such a strong emotion like this. The harder she tried to block it out, the stronger it became. "There," she said, pointing through a partially opened doorway. "We go through there."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked.

Hermione glared at him. "Oh trust me, Malfoy. Ron is a large ball of rage at the best of times. And that is exactly what's behind that door." She led the way, and the closer she got, the stronger the anger became. She passed through the door, Draco hot on her heels. And that was when he felt a fist meet his face. Or rather, the face that looked like Harry.

When he opened his eyes, there stood Ron Weasley with his shaggy red haircut from fourth year. He glared down at him, Hermione trying to get between them to end the fight. "I know you put your name in the Goblet!" Ron shouted at him, trying to push past Hermione. "You fucking liar!"

Hermione pulled Ron off of him, and Draco staggered back, the door they had passed through now gone. They had no alternative but to push onwards through the memory.

Ron continued his yelling, and Hermione got between them, taking over from there due to Draco's lack of knowledge. She was shaking. Eventually, however, the discourse ended and Ron stormed off. Alone.

"Are you alright?"

Draco rubbed at his chin, still trying to become accustomed to the awkwardness that was Harry's form. "Punched like a hippogriff," he said. "What happened?"

"Fourth year. Harry and Ron were fighting for nearly two weeks straight. When the tournament was announced, Harry had said he had no interest in it. He didn't want to do it. Someone managed to use a loophole to get Harry's name in the Goblet." She looked down the path Ron had stormed off down. "Should we..."

Draco nodded. Hermione filled him in on the details of Harry and Ron's rocky friendship. About how Harry's name had been put in by a death eater disguised as Professor Moody. And the fact that Ron and Harry had patched things up again after the lake challenge.

They found themselves entering the castle, to discover the door did not go where they had expected it to go. "What is this?" Draco hissed in her ear. It was... "Oh no," she whispered, turning away, wanting to go back the way they had come. But it had been impossible. For the scene had shifted and turned into something else, something more.

"I know this night..." Draco said, frowning. "This was the night of the Yule Ball, fourth year. Why are we-"

"Jealousy!" Hermione exclaimed, turning to Draco with eyes wide in understanding. "Jealousy. It's always been one of Ron's driving forces. That's why.... Come on. I think I know how this is working now!" Hermione grabbed Draco by the hand, dragging him up the stairs as Ron's memory of her from two years prior went down. She could feel the jealousy Ron had felt when he had seen her. When they reached the top of the staircase, she felt his seething hatred towards Victor Krum before she looked back the way they had come to see herself and Krum, arm in arm, as they waited for the ball to begin.

She let go of Draco's hand when they came to a stop outside a disused classroom. "In here, I think, is where Harry said it had been."

"What?"

"The Mirror. He'd taken Ron to see it. Harry told me that he had wanted to show Ron what the Potters looked like, but Ron saw something else. Everyone sees something else. Ron's... Well... He's always been competitive, but it's only gotten worse as the years have passed. He gets bitter, filled with so much anger."

"Now we know why."

"Maybe. It's only a breadcrumb," she said, opening the door. She could not explain how she knew where to go, nor how she felt the strength of Ron's presence and had come to know it to be truly him within the deeper world of his dreams. But she knew, with every fibre of her being, that all others they had seen had been false. This... this was the real Ronald Weasley.

A boy caught up in his own daydreams.

"I'd forgotten how young we used to be..."

"War does that to a person, Granger," he said. "If you don't mind, I will hold back. Inspect the scene for any discrepancies. It may very well be a trap."

She nodded, cautiously stepping forward as Draco, disguised as Harry, faded into the shadows. The mirror, at first, had appeared to be empty, just as she had expected it to be from the things Harry and Ron had told her about it. Then, a sort of shimmer took hold of the reflection. There, Ron Weasley sat before a mirror in which he held up the Quidditch cup. Then, no... wait.... Prefect pin. Head Boy. Everyone cheering behind him... Ron saving Harry. Ron fighting against Voldemort.... Ron defeating Draco – then the Dark Lord – then Snape – then... Again and again. As if on eternal repeat.

First year, Ron Weasley, sat hugging his knees, watching the reel play out over and over again.

"Hi," Hermione said, kneeling beside him. "May I?"

He shrugged at her, but never took his eyes off the mirror. "You know," she said. "It only shows you what you want to see. That's why it is called the Mirror of Erised. Erised is desire, but backwards."

"Uppity know-it-all," he muttered, then continued to ignore her.

She watched the images flit by. Noticing subtle changes each time they played out. Some events, having had come to pass, were slightly altered from the dream in the mirror. "Oh," she said "I remember this one. This was when you saved me from the troll..." she said. "Oh, and that one from when we used polyjuice potion to sneak into Slytherin."

She clapped her hands when Prefect Ron Weasley came around again. "That's right, we're both Prefects this year. I suspect that was to help keep Harry out of trouble."

At the mention of Harry, Ron turned his head just a little bit. "No. I did that on my own. I don't need HIM to-"

"Ronald-"

"Go away."

"But-"

"GO AWAY!"

Draco appeared behind her instantly, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her away from the mirror. The boy settled back in... and it was only after she had been pulled out of the sphere of influence did she see the cracks in the glass. "I was getting through to him..."

Draco shook his head. "No, you weren't. It, whatever it is, tried to break out of the mirror. Didn't you see it screaming at you?"

"I-"

"Jealousy.... but there must be something more to it. This is where the see of doubt had been planted. Nurtured over the course of the years. It's taken root. Jealousy is just a symptom. We must find the cause, and cut it at the stalk. It is too late to stop the seed, but not too late to kill the weed."


	24. 23. To Hide

 

Events at Hogwarts were not as they had appeared for a very long time.

Trelawney watched from her tower as scenes played out in real time that she had seen sixteen years before. She had hoped that Minerva took her words to heart, and sought out the poison within her own House. Already, Albus had been by. She had felt it time to show a little more of her hand. Just a peek behind the haze and the performance she had kept about her all these years. A peek through the cloak that had protected her all this time from both the Dark Lord and the Phoenix.

But that time now, had passed. And she sought her own council in the depths of Hogwarts. Where it was still safe. Where it was still secure. But only just.

"Sybil, your Badger has returned."

She gave a nod to the painting, one of her oldest and most loyal companions in her time here in Scotland. Godric left the false painting's frame, allowing his decoy to return to it's nap in his place

She turned back to her windows, choosing one and sitting as she often did upon the cushioned seat with her cup of tea. Watching the students below. There, tromping up the path from the gamekeeper’s hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest was the werewolf Tobias Black. Tired. Exhausted. Battle worn. But not broken. Hope remained, so long as that man still breathed.

A smile graced her lips. The second cup of her china set waiting, charmed to keep warm. He would climb the ladder soon enough. "They all climb the ladder," she said to herself, sipping the last of her tea as Tobias stopped long enough to break up a skirmish between Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

She noted he stopped the Ravenclaws long enough to check arms. A frown formed on her lips, then she looked into the cup in her hands.

"Oh dear. I had not anticipated this..."

_**o0o** _

Hermione and Draco had found themselves stumbling into a memory of second year. Harry's rescue by the Weasley boys had been a success, and now... Hermione and Draco sat in the back seat as the car, and two second year Gryffindor students were nearly pummeled to death by the Whomping Willow.

They were ejected from the car with Harry and Ron. Draco tackled her to the ground when the trunks came sailing out of the boot. "Draco."

He looked down at his hands, moving them quickly away from her chest and scrambling to his feet. Cheeks hot and bright with embarrassment. "Apologies, Granger. The trunks."

"Yes. The trunks," she said, straightening out her shirt. "Thank you. For-"

"You needn't worry," he quickly said. "Your honor is completely intact. I did not enjoy accidentally-"

"Oh, oh of course not. Draco Malfoy would never. Not with a muggleborn."

He coughed, looking towards the castle and changing the subject quickly. "We always end up here, don't we?"

She followed his gaze, looking to the castle as well. "Yes. We do... But... I don't know. There's something off. I can almost see it, but it's not quite there."

"When Black and I were inside Harry's mind, we found him trapped within. Harry, as we knew him the last few years, was not the boy you met on the train. Nor the boy I met in Diagon Alley."

Hermione turned to Draco then, watching the familiar look of Harry's thinking expression on his face. The glasses slipping down his nose, and his hair wild as if having been twisted and yanked in frustration as he thought. Even now, Draco's hand went to his hair, to twist and twirl a lock of black around it his fingers. The lower lip working as he thought. How close, she wondered, did the other boy pay attention to Harry? How much did he commit to memory? Every trait, every nuance of her friend's habits and ticks played out in her and Draco's adventure here in the unknown.

Then, false green eyes lit up as yet another familiar expression claimed that false face. "I have it! When I found Harry, the real Harry, well... sort of real Harry. A fake Harry, but more real than the other Harrys - there was this filmy look to his eyes. We need to get close enough to Weasley to see if he has the same look. A sort of pearl-like shimmer that dulls his sight. I also found him in a place where he had been alone. A place he felt safe, but wasn't actually safe. If we can find a place like that, in here, with Weasley then we might have found the solution!"

"I don't think I followed half of what you said. How are we going to find it? And the right Ronald?"

"We're looking in the wrong memories. We need to find ones with me in them. Weasley and I have always been competing for Potter's attention. I met him first, and when I discovered who he was I attempted to befriend him. He chose Weasley instead. Merlin knows why, but ever since... We need to find Weasley at his most raw, his most vulnerable and jealous and angry. We need to find memories of him and I with Harry."

Hermione sighed and allowed her shoulders to slump. "I was afraid you were going to say that..." she said. "If he punches you in the face again, I won't rescue you a second time."

Draco did his best to smirk, but it came off as an awkward and embarrassed smile instead. "He hits like a hippogriff. But his attacks are weak compared to one punch in the face from you. Lead the way, Granger. The only way we're going to find the right one, at the right time, is for you to find the angriest, most hate filled memory of me you can find. And then, I'll let him see me. Shock him out of whatever hold is upon him."

_**o0o** _

His control over Harry had been broken. His influence over the boy's friends waning. His leverage over Severus all but gone. And now the Order demanded answers. Answers he could not fully give.

"Looks like the war effort is in shambles. Reports of Potter's disappearance have reached fell ears, Albus. Muggle villages are raided and attacked. Half-blood families murdered in their sleep."

Remus, Moody, and Minerva.

It had been Moody who had spoken. Leaning heavily on his staff as Minerva seated herself, legs crossed and hands folded on her knee. Remus remained aloof. Albus ignored his stand-offish nature. The change was coming upon him in a few days time.

"The school is suffering, Albus. I cannot keep holding it together in such a state. Students are turning against one another. Entire years in houses are simply missing without a trace. Parents are demanding answers, and so is the Ministry. I cannot hold them off much longer."

"And you, Remus?" Albus asked the silent third party. "More ill news to share?"

"The werewolves, giants, and cyclops have all joined with the enemy. Some of the dragon riders in Romania have been holding the giants back, but they will not be able to hold the line much longer. There may be hope in the south of France. And a delegation from Italy has agreed to send a few of their order of monks. But I fear it won't be enough."

"There's something else," Moody said, coming forward and pulling a parchment from his raggedy coat. He slipped it onto the desk for Albus to see. "A large number of shape shifters have started moving north. Animagi, were-beings, and a small army of house elves. We don't know what their purpose is, but Molly found the gnomes in her garden actually packing. Her boys Fred and George were following them. They're heading north as well. All manner of strange creatures. We caught a parrot, but it doesn't make much sense. Refuses to change back, and keeps saying that over and over."

Albus looked at the parchment. Then, he passed it to Minerva.

"Christmas?" she asked as she read it over, passing it back to Remus.

"It seems," Albus said. "Young Mr. Black's influence is far greater than we believed. Remus, I will need your talents to keep an eye on him for the time being. Ensure that no harm comes to Harry."

"Albus, we cannot even find him! How do you expect me to-"

"He is one of your kind. It will be easy enough."

The room was quiet then for a long moment. Then, with shoulders hanging low, Remus turned to go.

"Sirius was not your prisoner. Remus is not your sniffer dog." Minerva's calm voice was calm, but firm. She'd had a lot to think about since her visit with Sybil. And more since she became aware of just how clear her understanding, her thoughts now were. "And Harry Potter is not your toy soldier. What are you not telling us, Albus. I demand answers. And I will not leave this office until I receive them. Neither will Remus and Alastor."

She kept her face as calm as she could, her heart beating so hard she feared it would leap up her throat and out her mouth to escape her chest. The power of Albus Dumbledore was legendary, but her resolve would no longer bend. It would not break. She needed answers. She needed him to focus on the students, on the school, on the innocents caught in this crossfire. Even as she felt the now alien feeling of probing at the edges of her thoughts, she fought them off. She fought back. And refused to look away from the headmaster.

"How do you expect us to help you, to follow you, if you will not trust us with the truth."

Albus thought long and hard for a few moments. He knew that he could not tell her, nor them, everything. He could not tell them the things Tobias had told him under the influence of the veritaserum. He could not tell them he was dying... but perhaps...

"Young Mr. Black has been acting on behalf of Harry and Draco, and others. He and I have dueled, and we have come to terms. Harry will return to us, but the missing students will remain hidden. For their safety, until such a time that certain disruptive elements are handled. Until then, we have a truce. At Christmas, our hands are revealed. I must say, I had not expected him to be able to live up to his word so quickly."

"Albus-"

"He has summoned an army of creatures. Any and all who will not follow the dark call of Voldemort will follow him in Harry's stead. They will keep watch on the school, and keep it protected for as long as they are able. It is a noble effort, but it is not enough."

"It will have to be," Remus said. "With all others turning to the enemy."

Albus nodded. "There is more, but I am oath bound, not by choice, not to speak of it until Christmas, when Harry and his confederates will come to discuss where we proceed from here. Until then, I am afraid my hands are tied." He sighed heavily, and the trio could see that for once, he spoke truth.

_**o0o** _

Tobias led the children into the castle. Quietly, quickly he hurried them along. Ravenclaw third years followed, peering over their shoulders to check for footsteps and ill eyes. "Thank you," one of the girls said, trying her best to keep up with him. "Thank you so much."

"Where are we going?" A rushed voice.

"Anywhere but back there." A hushed and breathless one.

"Why'd you check my arm?"

So many questions as they passed through the castle, trying to find a dark and quiet corner. "I'm taking you to safety. From there, we'll-"

He stopped, putting his arm out to prevent the students with him from going further. "Quiet," he hissed, starting to back away. "We'll go another way..."

"But sir, we don't even-"

"I said quiet. Come on. Don't lag behind." He led them into a classroom, searching for an alternative exit. Or even a window to climb out. Something, anything, and hoped that the Slytherin students he had spotted in the hall ahead had not seen them. His ears twitched. His nostrils flared. There was no escape from the classroom. Footsteps beat the stonework. What he wouldn't give for... Ah ha! There!

"Thank Salazar," he barked, rushing to a tapestry and pulling it aside. "Rowena, there you are woman. We need entry."

"Are they.... clean?" the woman in the painting asked, scrutinizing their uniform colors.

"Yes. I've checked myself."

"That's-"

"Yes, I am," she said, then swung open. "Come children. Inside quickly."

Tobias ushered them all inside ahead of him. He hurried after, the frame closing just as the door of the classroom had been forced open.

The last Tobias had seen before Rowena closed the passage was the face of Pansy Parkinson twisted in a rage.

By the time Crabbe and Goyle had ripped the tapestry from it's hangings, the painting was gone. Only bare stone wall remained.

_**o0o** _

"I wish there were some sort of order to this chaos," Draco said as they had passed from doorway to doorway. Weaving in and out of Grimmauld Place, The Burrow, Hogwarts, and many other places and locations in Ron's memories. "How can he even hear himself think?!"

They had stopped for a rest at Hagrid's hut, where Ron had just left with his bucket for vomiting up slugs in second year. The pair of them had seated themselves on the front steps after Hagrid had wandered off to tend to his game-keeping duties. They stared up at the castle, trying to sort it all out before they continued.

"So that memory of me was not strong enough," Draco had said after a while. "Otherwise..."

"I knew for sure that would be the one. It was the strongest one I could find. His hatred for you... I dare say it's worse than You-know-who's hatred for Harry." She sighed, resting her wringing hands in her lap. "If we don't get him sorted, then we'll be trapped here, won't we?"

"Yes," Draco answered quickly. "And then we will die. I have a strong feeling that if that were to happen, there would be a rather angry werewolf trying to take a bit out of your friends."

"They're your friends now, too, Draco."

He shook his head. "No, Granger. There exists far too much of a hostile history between myself and others. Tolerable acquaintances may be the best scenario I could hope for after this war, if it does not kill us first." He sighed heavily, allowing his shoulders to droop in defeat. "That, however, depends on if we can sort out Weasley." Draco watched her from the corner of his eye. "Are you absolutely certain that the boy with the mirror is the real Weasley?"

She nodded. "I'm sure of it. Thus far, that instance is the strongest I have ever felt his emotions in this place. Based on what you've told me about this, that is the sign that he is the true consciousness. All others..."

"I have been thinking," Draco said, looking back to the castle. "We were able to see what Weasley saw in the mirror, because we merely see his memory. We see it through his eyes, not our own. Whatever has happened to cause this unbalance in him began with the mirror, or at least, the idea was planted then and there. The idea to be better, to be more than he is. It's an admirable dream, especially when you must compete with so many others within your own family. Trying to stand out from the pack, so to speak. But someone has seen this in him, and has twisted it. Right to the core. How many people would know of his ambitions? His dreams and goals? It does not make sense. I understand why the headmaster would seek to control both yourself and Weasley, as you are Harry's closest friends. But the methodology is different."

"What do you mean?"

"Yourself and Harry were drugged with opium. Harry more so. Yourself, it had been much smaller doses, interspersed with, I believe Tobias called it ecgonine methy... something similar to that I'm sure. It was a muggle concoction, milder than what had been given to Weasley, no doubt. How you were dosed is still a mystery. If it were merely in the food then more students in all the houses would be suffering the effects." He continued to watch the castle, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. His hands came up to steeple beneath his chin. "It had to be something unique. Only for the three of you. And even then, in circumstances which the one giving it to you could control."

Hermione's expression darkened as she stood, rousing Draco from his thoughts. "I think I may know the answer. But we will not find it in here. Come on. I know where we need to go next."

Draco stood, and followed her up the path. He had to nearly run just to keep up with her as they returned to the castle.

_**o0o** _

"I will take you straight to the war room," Rowena said from halfway down the tunnel.

Tobias had expected to emerge into his and Draco's hidden chambers, not into a long tunnel. Torches lit up ahead in the twists and turns, enabling them to see. She popped up at different points, to guide them left or right. Then, at last the found themselves at a dead end, with a silver frame waiting for them.

"Salazar," Tobias said flatly. The portrait swung inward, the man in it eying the three students with the werewolf as they came out into the council chamber. Four walls with four frames, each boasting a founder save for one, the golden frame of Gryffindor.

"Are things truly as bad as-" Helga began.

"Yes," Tobias interrupted. Shelter for three more."

The three students looked around the room in wonder, not having known Hogwarts had held so many more secrets than they could have ever hoped to discover. "This way, children," Helga said, swinging open for them.

"Go on. You'll be safe now. Food, drink, and warm beds for the lot of you. Are there others who have been attacked like this?"

They nodded. "The ones who haven't already been taken home."

"Do you know who is behind it?"

Two shook their heads. The third.. he did not look at the werewolf in front of him. "You two, go on. I'll speak with this one and send him on. Don't worry. You're safe now."

After much hesitation, and much urging from the portraits, the two Ravenclaws went into the tunnel to sanctuary, leaving their companion behind. Tobias pulled out a chair and indicated the boy be seated. Then, to put him at ease, sat down himself. "You are part of Dumbledore's Army, are you not?"

"Y...yes, Mr. Black."

"Call me Toby," he said. "So you know what's happened in the DA then. The faction split?"

"Yes."

"And you're not in the DA any longer."

The boy shook his head. "Not since Harry Potter disappeared. Mr. Bla- Toby," he corrected himself. "It's been barmy. I've never seen anyone so... so..."

"It's alright. You've done nothing wrong here."

The boy swallowed hard. "But I did. I... When Neville Longbottom disappeared, a lot of us started to wonder if She did it. She's got Harry's map, you see. Neville had it, after Harry... but when he disappeared, all they found after was the map Harry used last year to watch out for Umbridge. We all saw it during the meetings. We knew what it was for. But he wouldn't tell any of us how to use it."

"Except for his inner circle."

The boy nodded.

Toby's nostrils flared as he quickly ran through the list of people. Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna were all present and accounted for. Harry's inner circle.... but.... "Ginny Weasley," he said suddenly, causing the boy to start at the name. His reaction was all Toby needed in that regard, so he changed subjects. "Aside from the faction split, what do you know of the Slytherins?"

"Not much. There's a war going on there, as well. There's so many missing. And there's others still out there. They try to help us, but against their own house AND Gryffindor? They're no match for it... Is that why you checked our arms? Because you thought-"

He nodded. "I did," he said. "No one can be too sure anymore. There are spies everywhere. Too much fighting, too much chaos. As if someone or something is trying to draw all attention away from..." An epiphany. Tobias could feel his face pull into that same expression he had often witnessed as a child gracing his father's features, and his brother's... and a much older Draco's. "Go. Join the others. I'll tell Potter of what we've discussed. Let him know how things outside these walls stand."

He urged the boy to go, but remained long after the portrait hole had closed. He sat a long while, pondering his epiphany. Certain events, he knew, he could not alter. Key facts that made it into those accursed muggle books written long before he had been born. Key points in history that could not, could never be changed. The invasion of Hogwarts. The battle of the Astronomy Tower. The death of the headmaster. Parkinson's spiral into madness. All these things he now held in the palm of his hand. The key players and their roles now revealed to him, laid out plainly and with certainty.

He knew, for instance, that Harry must be in place at the tower. That it must be Parkinson who disarms the headmaster, so that Harry may disarm her immediately following. Bill Weasley must be injured in the attack by Fenrir Greyback. And Snape must take over as headmaster once the ministry falls. The Horcruxes must be found and destroyed, this much he knew for sure. However...

"Who is the one person none would question?" he asked aloud to the empty room. "The one person who could get close, close enough to learn all of the secrets and then at a moment of opportunity attempt to seize power."

"I believe," Salazar said from his quiet corner of his portrait. "The answer is obvious. One must simply ask oneself this: Who stands the most to gain should they succeed?"

Tobias looked up then. If a mere portrait, hidden away for centuries and mostly unaware of the people, the events taking place in the outside world could have figured it out, then he had no excuse to ignore his instincts.

"You claim to me to be of the future. You knew the outcome of events before you arrived. Your continued existence reassures that events are moving in the correct direction. You are in the middle of a war, boy. Did you not expect heartbreak and betrayal? Lies and deceit and struggles for control? You may have seen much violence in your life, much despair. But you do not understand the horrors of battle. Nor the consequences of waging war."

"What would you have me do then? I'm doing the best that I can with what I have."

"No you are not. You are watching events, and reacting to them. You look at the world around you, boy, but you do not truly take it in. How may you push forward if you do not take the time necessary to understand the information you have been given?"

"I see but I don't observe... Well, there's that age old mystery solved." He stood, taking one more glance at the portrait of Slytherin. "Are you sure you're not my father from a past life, because you certainly are an insufferable arse."

"Godric could often be heard speaking the same of me," the portrait replied with a shrug of it's shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Praise Merlin! Three chapters in the same month? What?! It's true.  
> Posting this chapter on my birthday, as a gift to all the readers of it. Ya'll have been seriously great. And to those who stuck around through the nearly 3 year hiatus - ya'll are the best!


	25. 24. To See

  "Harry was imprisoned. My mind was never messed with. And Ronald's has been affected by these concoctions. Preying on his thoughts and feelings. Amplifying them. According to Mr. Black's notes, there is only one object which can do this."

   "You've been rifling through his private notes?!"

   "They are not exactly private if he leaves them scattered about the desk with the books now are they?" she replied. "Now, what object have we come into contact with has that ability?"

   "How do you expect me to know? I have never been one of your favorite persons if you will remember."

   They rounded a corner and came into a familiar scene, at least, for Hermione. Draco recognized the rooms easily as those of Grimmauld Place. "The proof is in the pudding," Hermione said as she ran from the room Ron and Harry shared, and into the hallway. They hurried down the stairs, across the landing, and again to the next floor down.

   "Where are we going?!"

   "There's one thing Ron loves most in all the world. More than his friends. More than his family. More than Quidditch."

   "Food!" Draco exclaimed as they burst into the kitchen. Harry and Ron, the memories of them, were behind them. "You don't think his mother would-"

   "Not knowingly, no."

   Already a memory version of Hermione was seated at the table. Surrounded by friends, and Order members. Quickly she went to the cabinets, looking for anything that might appear out of place to her sight. Something Ron may have seen, but didn't realize.

   "Granger, we have already ruled out food. If it were in the food, then the other students would be affected. I would be affected."

   "But Draco you are! We all are! Anyone who has ever dined at Grimmauld Place has been drugged! Look!" She gave up looking in the cabinets, and went to the cupboard under the staircase. She tried to pry it open. "Come help me with this. I don't think he's ever seen it open, but I have."

   Draco went to help her, and it took great effort to pry the door open. Enough that Draco lost his focus on his disguise. He hadn't noticed that it had failed him until he heard a shout behind them. At the same moment, the door to the cupboard swung open. Inside were an odd assortment of things. Necklaces, rings, candle sticks. All items she thought they had cleared out of the building. All of it had been Kreacher's hoard.

   Draco was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and yanked back away from the opening.

   Hermione dug. And she kept digging as behind her Draco did his best to fight off his attacker. "Hurry Granger!" he shouted as the memory of Ron Weasley attempted to throttle him, shouting abuse.

   At last she found it. A small wooden box Mrs. Weasley had found in the kitchens when the Weasleys had taken up semi-permanent residence in the house. She flipped it open, rummaging in the bottles and pouches inside until finally, she pulled out a bottle that she had been familiar with. She had recognized it when she and Mrs. Weasley had first found the box and thought they had gotten rid of it. She quickly backed out of the cupboard and held it up. "Coca extract! Mixed in with the drinks! Muggle poison!"

   Draco was slung to the side, crashing into a cabinet of pots and pans as the memory of Ron loomed over Hermione. She held the bottle out at arm's length with a shout. "Ronald, stay back! Stay back or I swear I'll break it!"

   Ron took a step back, eyeing her then the bottle. "'Mione?"

   "Ron, this isn't real. None of this is real. And you've been living in a nightmare. We are here to rescue you."

   "You and... Malfoy?"

   "Please Ronald. Help us. This poison has made you change. Made you hurt people. I know that's not who you really are. Please, help us!"

   Draco scrambled to his feet, but kept his distance when Hermione cut her eyes to him. "She's right, Weasley. Look at yourself."

   "Shut up Malfoy!"

   "Would you hurt her? She's your friend."

   "I said shut up!"

   Draco edged closer, despite Hermione's warning glare. "You attacked your own friends. Longbottom. Abbott. Finnegan. And a mess of first and second years."

   "Stop it!"

   "Ron Weasley would never try to kill anyone that didn't deserve it!" Draco shouted at him.

   Ron turned, and lunged for him again. Draco ran for the stairs, climbing them two at a time with Ron in hot pursuit. Hermione was close on his heels, shouting for Ron to stop.

**o0o**

   "What do we do?!" Neville shouted as he and Blaise held Ron down, Harry's binding spells beginning to fail. The boy thrashing about against his bonds. Hermione's arm was pulled so hard she nearly fallen out of her cot, pulling Draco with her from the other side.

   Draco had warned him. Told him Ron might struggle. That he might fight back even in his sleep. He couldn't imagine what sort of nightmares had caused him to react like this. Now that the moment had come, could he truly do what needed to be done?

   The question was answered for him when Tobias opened the door of the bedchamber. At first, the man stared wide eyed at the group of teenagers. After the initial shock, he growled in anger. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!"

   "Draco did it!" Blaise replied quickly as he all but sat on Ron's midsection, with Neville trying to hold the boy's chest down.

   He could not stop them, only step in and take over. "Stupid children!" he roared, raising his hand. When he did so, after a soft utterance, Ron was once again stilled. "You there," he said, eyeing Neville. "Speak."

   And so Neville recounted the events leading up to their drastic decision after Tobias's absence. The entire time, he never lowered his hand, and he shook his head, occasionally interspersing it with "Stupid boy." At last when Neville was done, Toby ordered everyone from the room, save Harry. Blaise was more than happy to go, having already had to sit through Draco's voyage into Harry's nightmares.

   When they were alone, save for the three sleeping forms before them, Tobias took Harry's place as Ron's jailer. "Do you have any idea the danger you lot have put Hermione and Ron in?"

   "There was no other option-"

   "There is ALWAYS another option. This act should never be undertaken lightly, and never by inexperienced children. It takes an expert hand to create the potions for this, and an even more skillful caster to ensure there is no bleed over. Without the proper spells in place, you've not endangered three innocent lives all for the sake of trying to what?"

   "What would you have us do then? Wait around for you to give us the answers?!"

   "Yes!" he snarled. "The best we can hope for now, Potter, is that Draco has paid attention to his lessons and does not allow them to be drawn into the deepest regions of Weasley's mind."

   Harry was fuming. Hands clenching at his sides ready to strike down the werewolf at any moment, but he willed himself to keep his anger in check. "Why do it for me if it's so dangerous, but not for them? Because I'm the 'Chosen One' is that it?! And they're just what? Extra luggage?!"

   Tobias wouldn't answer. The truth was, how could he without making it worse? Lie to the boy who had been manipulated and used, lied to his entire life... and for what? To spare his feelings? Or tell the truth and lose what little trust he had gained from him? Tobias was under no illusions that Harry's trust in him went just so far, and then it cut off. They were forced together by Fortuna, and by her will alone. To prematurely break whatever truce existed between Potter and his charge would alter events such that he could negate his own existence. Time... Time was a fragile, delicate instrument. The strings so finely tuned and tightly pulled that one mistake, one accident, and the entire web would unravel, and Fortuna's plan changed for better or worse.

   He sighed, focusing his attention back on the teen under his wand. "Going in without a clear plan. Without the proper protections and spells in place... There will be consequences for this, Potter. This ritual takes in equal measure of what it gives. Only the truly desperate should resort to such dangerous and costly magic. We freed your mind from the headmaster's control, but in return Draco will never be free of the horrors he has seen within. It will forever haunt him. Harden him. Each time, it is the person's anchor who pays the price."

   "And you? What cost did you pay?"

   "My sanity. My freedom. I've got the Grim. Stronger than most, now." He tapped the side of his head with his free hand. "The Black line is cursed, you see. We are all highly intelligent. Remarkably so. But our intelligence is our curse, bestowed as a punishment by our own ancestor in a fit of grief and rage. He performed dark magic that killed many. And now, his fury, his madness stalks us from cradle to grave. The fortunate keep their wits about them. But the unlucky ones... face the Grim. You've seen what it does to us. In Bellatrix. In Sirius."

   Now Harry looked to Draco. "Does he-"

   Toby nodded. "My sister, the creator of this ritual you four have so foolishly undertaken, was driven to insanity. She acted as the anchor for far too many people at one time. She can no longer do this, as a result. I... was the most stable in mind of my family at the time. We performed it on her, and I took the burden of cost. It worked out moderately well."

   "Why would you do something like that? Willingly-"

   "Love, Potter, drives people to do foolish, crazy things. Love between friends, family, lovers. It makes fools and heroes of us all."

   At this, Harry was silent. Moments passed before Tobias spoke again, instructing him to take a bottle from the bedside table and feed it to Weasley. He would have preferred the help of Blaise and Neville. Blaise due to his part in helping to purge the poisons from Harry's system, and Neville for his knowledge of herbology and potions interactions. However in this instance Harry needed to be part of this. He knew the benefits of such an act, having had it done to him. But now Tobias felt the boy would benefit from the experience of watching on the outside.

**o0o**

   "I hope you have a plan!" Hermione shouted as she chased Ron, and Ron chased Draco.

   He did have a plan. Sort of. What he had seen happen in the kitchen with the cupboard under the stairs reminded him of his first, though unplanned, trek into someone else's mind. When he had nearly died, and had somehow found himself, or his consciousness, in a strange and bizarre world.

   The cupboard wouldn't open because Weasley had never seen it open. But Hermione... she had seen it open at least once. So Draco had a plan. Sort of. He racked his brain for anything he could think of that might stay this, show this version of Weasley that this world was not real...

   And then he found it. He focused on it as he found himself coming to a dead end. A door.

   "Do you trust me?!" he shouted, trying the handle. Trying the door. It was locked. It wouldn't budge. It would take some heavy, strong force to open.

   He turned then, one hand on the knob and trying to turn it. Then, he let it happen. Let the raging Gryffindor slam into him, and with Hermione's momentum causing her to crash into them, against the old wood of the door, it came open with a resounding crack of broken wood.

   Draco screamed as his back hit the hard ground of broken pieces of door and hardwood. The smell of damp and rot assailed his senses. But he didn't have time to take it in, as Hermione struggled to pull Ron off of him.

   At last, he was able to scramble away, seconds before two bodies disappeared from his peripheral vision. Tobias and himself had just left via the portkey knife.

   But Hermione was struggling to keep Ron off of him. And was losing.

   "Weasley come to your senses! Look where we are!"

   Hermione stole a look around, and that was when Draco cast the binding spell to hold Ron in place. Hermione took a step back when she realized the boy was frozen in place. "Weasley, look as best as you are able with only your eyes. We are somewhere you have never been. You are in a dream world, and we need you to listen to us." He signaled Hermione to continue as he walked around to investigate the setting. Some parts were hazy, as he had not gotten a proper look at them the first and only time he had been in the cottage ruin.

   "Ron," she said, moving to stand in front of him. She pocketed the vial, noticing his eyes watching her. "We're not your enemy. Draco is not trying to harm you. Or me. Or Harry. He's only trying to help us." She paused, then sighed. "I'm sorry about all of this. You've been drugged Ron. All three of us have been. And we have been manipulated. I know you don't want to hear it, but we need your help to fix what's happened to us."

   "This is Potter's Cottage," Draco said loud enough for them both to hear, picking up what remained of a half burned wizarding photograph. He brought this to Hermione. The figures in it were bunched up to one side, away from the singe marks. She looked at it before holding it up for Ron to see. It was a photo of Harry's parents. "Black brought me here when we fled our refuge in a muggle village. We waited here before taking a portkey to your headquarters."

   "Why are we here now? Ron's never been to-"

   "I brought you both here into my memory. To show him what is at stake." He nodded to Ron. "Weasley, I do not care what you think of me. This war is bigger than our feud. It's bigger than my feud with Potter. Set aside your hate and your jealousy. Or else this," he gestured to the ruined cottage. To the burned photograph. "This will happen to your family. To Granger's family. To all of Briton. When the war is over, I will gladly face you in a duel. But we have all been placed into the same situation. What Potter is doing, what I am doing, is attempting to undo the spells that bind us all. Free ourselves from power mad masters who would use us as weapons and pawns. The first step to this, is to break the chains that have bound you. All three of you, to another's will for the last six years. You are no use to Harry, to your family and your friends, if you are running around cursing children and lashing out in a blind rage. You are no good to anyone if you are acting as if you are out of your mind."

   "Please Ronald. Help us to help you. We can't do this alone, and I would rather have you with us than against us. You're our friend, Ron. I would never do anything to hurt you. I-"

   "You mean it?"

   A small voice from the broken door frame leading back into the memories of Ron Weasley. The awkward, gangly child stared out at them from robes too small for even him.

   Hermione looked past the frozen, older boy to the child peering into the cottage. "Yes Ron, I do mean it."

   "And him?" He nodded towards Draco. "I don't trust him. He's a Malfoy."

   Draco sighed, stepping forward not to the boy, but to the young man frozen stiff. He stood a hair's breadth from him, and could feel his hot breath from his open, angry mouth. "Ronald Weasley, you are right. I am a Malfoy. But I am also bound. You have nothing to fear from me other than the occasional insult."

   "It's true," Hermione said to the younger version of her friend.

   "Prove it," the boy said, the familiar note of challenge in his voice. There... there was the real Weasel. "Prove to me that you can't harm me. Or my friends. Prove it, Malfoy."

   Hermione looked over her shoulder at her companion in this bizarre dream land. He considered for a few moments before nodding. He took a step back from the prone boy, muttered under his breath. The binding spell now broken, the berserker Weasley free. He attacked like a wild animal.

   But Draco... Draco did not fight back. He did not struggle. Even when Hermione screamed. Even when he felt the hands around his throat, trying to choke the life out of him. Even as the cottage began to fade into the endless white.

   Funny, he'd thought the land of the dead would have been darker. More foreboding...

**o0o**

   Ron was snarling, his face contorted into a mask of rage as Hermione, in her deep slumber, struggled to hang onto both Draco and her friend. Draco's free hand went to his throat, clawing at air. Gasping for breath. His eyes opened, but he was not awake...

   "No no no no no!" Tobias shouted angrily. Harry didn't know whether or not to jump to Ron or Draco's side. His mind was made up for him when Tobias barked at him to go to Draco. But once at his side... what was he to do?

   "Wake him. I don't care how, or what, just wake him up. Force him to come out of it!" The apprentice professor's panic was evident in his voice as he fought the nausea back. As he tried to ignore the pain in his throat. The fire shooting straight into his lungs. The air that smothered him with each attempt to breathe. Draco... stupid child... if he didn't wake soon, he would die. And Tobias with him.

   Harry tried everything he could think of as Toby tried his best to hold it together. At last, Harry, out of spells and charms and ideas, slapped the other boy as hard as he could in the face. Over and over again until his face turned red. Until he had the clearly identifiable shape of Potter's hand raised upon his pale flesh.

   Just when Harry had balled up his fist to punch him, Tobias sighed in relief. Draco's eyes began to focus. He howled in pain as he broke contact with Hermione.

   "Thank Merlin you're alive," Tobias gasped, then turned his focus back on Ron, who had now settled. Hermione whimpered, but remained otherwise firmly in the realm of Morpheus. "What the bloody hell were you thinking!"

   Draco rubbed his face angrily, and turned his heated glare to Harry. "We finally got through to him. It's in Granger's hands now."

**o0o**

   "Where..." Hermione whispered, looking around. She'd felt a sort of pull at her navel, her gut churning in such a way she felt she may soon be sick. Draco had disappeared when the world began to go white, then the pull. Then the nausea. Then... the mirror.

   Ron Weasley stood before the mirror, staring at the older boy in his reflection. "What happened?"

   "I don't know," Hermione said, holding her stomach. She walked gingerly, careful not to move too quickly. "I believe we experienced a form of apparition, leaving the memories of Draco and returning to your own."

   "You're not really here."

   She shook her head, now coming up even with him. "Yes. But no. We are both asleep in Draco's rooms. I am holding your hand." She reached down to take the small boy's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly. "Holding your hand allows me to be here, sharing your dream with you." She looked down at him as he looked down at their hands. "Ronald, do you trust me?"

   He looked up from their joined hands to her face. He was uneasy, but he gave a small nod. An unsure smile. "Of course I do, 'Mione."

   A small nod. "Draco and I were not here to hurt you. We came here to help you get better. You've been very sick. All of us have been very sick. Because we were sick, people started to take advantage of us. Other kids are afraid of you now, Ronald. You hurt people. You're not a bad person, but you do have some problems. Let's talk about them, one by one, and I'll be able to help you better, okay."

   Mirror Ron roared in silent anger on the other side of the Mirror of Erised. Hermione squeezed his hand tightly again. "I want you to tell me everything you see in that mirror, okay. And we'll see what we can do about it. When we wake up, the three of us can start working on what's going on. Just like old times."

   First year Ron nodded. He squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. With a squeeze back of Hermione's hand, together they turned to the mirror, and the awkward, gangly boy started telling Hermione everything he saw inside the mirror. Mirror Ron roared in silent fury again, glaring at Hermione as he beat against the glass from the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technical difficulties. Currently my main computer rig is down and I've had to get a extremely sub-par replacement. (Never buy an ACER machine folks!) As such most of my files and documents are currently inaccessible until I can get a backup of my original hard drive. Here's the latest chapter! (Thankfully, most of it had been sent by email to a friend for a quick once over in a fit of writer's block, so it wasn't completely lost.)


	26. 25. To Wake

Professor Snape had been absent for much of the time Hermione, Draco, and Harry had attempted then succeeded getting into Ron's mind. While he may not have been loyal to Dumbledore any longer he was loyal to his godson, Draco. By extension, he was loyal to Harry. He was loyal to THEIR cause. For that reason alone, he continued his position as a double agent. Spying on the Dark Lord and his followers.

While the teenagers played with dangerous, unpredictable magics, Snape kept up his appearance as a loyal Death Eater, sitting in Council with the Dark Lord. Acting as the group's potions master - brewing poisons and all manner of foul concoctions.

It was during this particular... session... that Voldemort had decided Lady Malfoy would be questioned again. They knew she helped her son's escape. That was clear when they had recaptured her. They knew he now stood on the side of the angels, of the Light, of Potter. What they desired to know now was how she had put the entire plot together. Who among his followers had helped her spirit her son away from them?

For months she had fought them by sheer force of will alone. The Dark Lord himself had ravaged her mind as the wolves ravaged her body. Raping her from the inside and out. But even then, she would growl. She would scream. She would cry and flail and fight. She would not speak the name. She would not think of it. Under Cruciatis, Imperius, Veritaserum, and the threat of an instant death, she continued to struggle. Continued to fight.

But she was breaking. Piece by piece, her sanity chipped away until the mighty Narcissa was little more than a sobbing, twitching heap on the floor.

And once more, she was brought forth. To be questioned. To be humiliated. To be raped and ravaged and used.

And once more, Snape was made to watch.

This time was different. When she was dragged past him, she could not meet his eye. The fight in her... was gone. This moment, this "session" he knew would be the one. She would at last break, and in doing so would seal her fate.

He excused himself midway through proceedings, on the pretense that he needed to prepare the potions and poultices needed to make her ready for the next session. It would rob the Dark Lord of his entertainment if she were to die prematurely from her injuries. While he had desensitized himself to the perversions and the wickedness and the evil of Voldemort and his followers, there were still a few lingering emotions he would not fully hide when those he truly cared for were forced to endure these evils alone and without any true aid.

He was summoned again hours later, the potions he had readied for Narcissa were taken, to be administered by another, less careful hand.

Snape now stood in judgment before the Dark Lord. One of his mongrel pets sniffing and huffing around him. Growling. Scenting him... Scenting-

"Narcissa claims it was a wolf who helped steal her son from me."

"I had heard rumor of one."

"Yet you have kept this information from me."

"I could not confirm the existence of such an individual other than the pet Dumbledore keeps close out of pity."

"I am familiar with Remus Lupin."

Snape felt it. The pain at the back of his skull. The fire of rage attempting to ravage his very soul. Burning into his mind, forcing it's way in. Even as a master of Occlumency it was difficult to maintain his secrecy, his privacy when such a man wanted to rip it from him. So drastically different from the attempts of Dumbledore. Who pulled and tugged and kneaded until he weakened the barriers, then crashed in with a sudden urgency of pain. The Dark Lord was not like this. He was forceful, and used brute strength and force against the mind. Bludgeoning and burning until he gained entry, laying waste and leaving fear in his wake.

The fire in his head abated. For now.

The pet that sniffed him ceased, stepping back and growling angrily.

"What do you scent?"

"The Runt. The Loner..." he growled, then turned his attention back to Voldemort. "The Red One."

"The Red One..." Voldemort pondered this a moment. Then nodded. "Send for Greyback."

The werewolf scurried from his lord's presence as Voldemort turned his full attention back on his agent. "Clearly you have come into contact with this wolf of Narcissa's."

"Not to my knowledge, my Lord. There have been many new members to Dumbledore's Order in the last year. It is possible one of the new recruits is the wolf. I would not recognize them, as I had no reason to prowl among your dogs of war." He felt the fire once more, so he gave a little more... a smidgen. "I did hear of a few of the new members hiding at the school. One of them meant to protect the Malfoy boy."

Voldemort let not a single twitch give away his thoughts on the matter. "Letters from my youngest disciples state the Malfoy boy has not been seen since Miss Parkinson's failed attempt to kill him. Potter and his friends have disappeared as well."

"Yes. We have searched for him, but it seems he knows the castle better than all others. He hides within it, in places even the headmaster cannot discover. It has been hoped the fighting among the students will draw him out of hiding. Potter does have a savior complex."

"Indeed, he does..."

Severus watched the Dark Lord's face, but no hint of his thoughts could be read upon it. He hoped, though knew in his heart it was a foolish hope, that he would not be called upon to act for the Dark Lord in the scheme he currently devised.

After a few moments Greyback appeared, a smaller, bloodied man trailing behind him through the door. "You wanted me, my Lord. Here I am."

Voldemort nodded, turning his attention from Severus to the werewolf. "The Red One."

Greyback was visibly enraged. He spat and he growled. "When I get my claws on that one I'll rip his bleedin throat out."

"My disciples at the school have nearly completed their task. The Red One resides in the castle with the traitor and Potter. You will have you opportunity once the headmaster has been removed. Severus will aid them when the moment comes. We will take Hogwarts by force, flush out its champions, and I will kill Potter."

Snape's heart beat quickened but for just a moment before he could will himself to remain calm and steady. "What of Lady Malfoy, my Lord, and Lucius?"

Voldemort seemed to consider this a moment. With a wicked, sickening smile he spoke. "Death is but a mere moment's suffering. A mercy I will not allow them. Narcissa will live to see her child slaughtered before her then be given over to the horde to do as they so wish. A punishment for her betrayal, and a reward to those who have remained loyal. Lucius? The failure? He will be neutered and he will be trained. And he will be molded to fit the new station to which I assign him."

Severus nodded as he swallowed back the bile burning his throat as it threatened to escape him. "Very wise. Prevent such failure from continuing through the generations."

"Despite my exile, he made a small effort at avenging his Lord's destruction. For this, he will keep his life. But for his failures, he will be punished."

He paused, sitting in his chair with his hands resting on the arms of it. Nagini slipped out from beneath his seat, encircling her master's legs before slithering off to hunt.

Severus remained silent, awaiting further instruction and intrusion. The fact his werewolf ally could be scented on him was not lost on the Dark Lord, nor his chief dog of war. He would, in the future, need to limit his contact with the rebellion within the heart of Hogwarts if he was to maintain his roles in this war over the soul of magic itself.

_**o0o** _

Draco had slept some, a deep and fitful sleep as he recovered from the excursion into the mind of a hated rival for Potter's attentions. But once rested, at Tobias's bidding he returned to his studies and practice. Harry had been released of his duties to help with Hermione and Ron, finding himself having little to do but either watch Malfoy or aid the other older students with the children hidden deeper in the castle.

An empty frame had opened in the wall, and noting it he figured he might as well follow it instead. He found himself sitting in a room with walls adorned each with an empty frame. Blue. Gold. Silver. Black. In the center of the room a large, round table. With enough chairs to sit only a handful of people. Though he was sure if there were a need, more chairs and space would easily be found.

It was here that Tobias found him later, examining the designs drawn into the table in correspondence to the frames upon the wall.

"This is Godric's war room. The Lion's Den."

Startled Harry looked up to see the golden frame open and a short passage to the shared rooms behind him. The werewolf stood with one hand on the frame, the other in his pocket.

"Is it... is it done?"

He nodded. "Draco is cleaning Weasley up now. But... it is done."

Harry rounded the table to leave and rejoin his best friends. Tobias put a hand to his chest and shook his head. "Not just yet Potter. You and I need to go over some matters first."

"But-"

"They are still asleep. They'll wake up on their own. Until then we need to make preparations for your return to the school. You know you have to face the Headmaster down, otherwise... more students are going to get attacked. There is the sense that their savior has abandoned them."

"I am no one's savior."

"Champion then. Please. Sit."

Harry protested, but did relent and seat himself. Tobias made a point of walking around the table to sit opposite of him. He sat before the vacant portrait of Slytherin, as Harry had seated himself before Gryffindor's. Tobias filled him in on everything. All the details he could safely recount, minus any indications of his true connection to Potter and Malfoy, of his arrival in England. He claimed to have arrived via a branch of the family in France, having been alerted to the death of Sirius Black. He told Harry of his experiences among Voldemort's wolves, of Greyback's ferocity. He spared little when he explained the plan he had hatched with Narcissa to spirit her son away from the Dark Lord, knowing that his experiences with the Dursleys would allow him to see the situation from a unique perspective. One of compassion and pity.

Harry had questioned why Tobias had told him the entire sordid affair. The reply was simple. "You hate liars. By telling you our story, the sacrifices we have made to come to your aid, you know the truth of our intentions. Feel free to remain suspicious, but you cannot say that we have not been truthful."

For long moments Harry considered this. Then, at long last he leaned forward in his chair, folding his arms on the table before him. "What move do we make now?"

"The Headmaster knows what I have done to you and your friends. Without you, he cannot make a move against the Dark Lord and expect to win. You are the symbol of hope for the Order. You are the symbol of strength and unity for Dumbledore's Army. I suggest we come out of the shadows. I've wheeled and dealed with Dumbledore about teaching the creature students. Snape and I have been working to create antidotes and counter spells to his machinations. Each time we are alone with him, or attend a meeting, we return and duel. Ripping the spells away from one another to know the effects and curse symptoms so that we may know what best will shield you and teach you.

"But you must return to the school. You must form a treaty of peace with the Headmaster. Without him, we lose access to valuable information on the enemy. And without you-"

"He has lost his greatest weapon." Harry chewed his lip as he thought. Giving a sigh of defeat, he nodded. "You're right. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I will need to retake control of the DA from Ginny. And Slytherin house is going to be a problem now that Blaise and the others have been found out."

"You leave Slytherin to Draco and I. We have a few tricks up our sleeves. We will make peace at Christmas. You leading the way, of course. A unified front."

Harry shook his head and sighed. "Is there anything else?"

Tobias's face lit up with a big, toothy grin. "We need to get you into training. You kids got lucky this time only because Draco had enough foresight to research what we did to help you, and he applied what he knew to help Weasley. But that was reckless, even for you. With the blocks on your magic weakening and breaking, you are stronger than you've ever been. A little more force applied to the binding spell at the wrong moment and you could have killed your best friend by accident."

"I'm already meant to be getting special lessons from Dumbledore-"

"Information gathering torture sessions is more like it-" Toby interrupted, only to be interrupted himself by Harry.

"And Occlumency from Snape. I have to catch up on my school work, too. I won't have time to do anything else. Especially after everything you've put on my plate now."

Tobias considered this but only for a moment. "Then I will have to experiment with Draco to find the best solution. We know that in the dreamscape we can wield magic. But we also need a mind far more secure than your own to work in. You need training to control your wild magic and test your limits, my young liege lord. Perhaps..." he lapsed into thought, at last dismissing Harry with a small wave towards the blue frame on the wall. It opened into the shared common rooms, and Harry could hear Hermione and Ron beyond.

_**o0o** _

Snape had returned to Hogwarts, intent on meeting with Draco before all others... To tell him the news of his mother's admission at last. But he was caught off guard by Minerva who had been waiting for him at the potion stores. She was obviously bothered, but trying her best to hold it in until the two were safely within the confines of his potions closet. "Yes Minerva?"

"Severus, we... feel the Headmaster has been... I mean to say since Potter disappeared-"

"You would like me to brew a potion for you? Veritaserum perhaps?" Her narrowed eyes answered for him. "I'm afraid the headmaster has used up my stores already, and I have not had the opportunity to brew more. However, Professor Slughorn-"

"Horace is, pardon my language, full of dragon dung. I am loath to admit, but compared to you, his potions and poultices are little more than joke shop novelties."

Snape considered this for a moment, then gave a nod. "I lack more Veritaserum, however I know where I may obtain an equally powerful recipe. How soon do you need it?"

"Today is preferable."

He shook his head. "Tomorrow is the earliest I may get it to you... Why do you suspect the Headmaster of withholding information from you? This is most unlike you Minerva."

"Surely even in your hidden cave you have learned of the children fighting one another? We can hardly keep the peace since Potter... We are running out of staff to give detentions. And your classes have been assigned to another wizard from the Order. This school is falling apart around us and he does nothing in his tower but order us about."

Snape's face remained impassive, but already he had begun slotting information into place. He would need to meet with the headmaster alone to discuss plans towards the end of the second term. The Headmaster was dying already... though he could not tell Minerva this. The two men needed to finalize the details of the agreement they had made before Draco and his pet threw everything out of control. The Gaunt ring was taking its time with its victim... but that time would not last forever. He realized he appeared to be staring off when Minerva huffed at him.

"Tomorrow it is then," she said, watching him closely. "But no later than noon. We need to strike while the iron is hot if we will bring this school back under control."

"Of course," he said. She left him there in his stores, closing the door behind her. He locked the door and sighed, gathering what supplies he knew would be needed. "Take me to Black and Draco's chambers," he said, not even turning to see the black and yellow frame that had raised itself on the back of the door. It swung open, and he stepped through the hidden passage in the door itself with arms full of ingredients and supplies. When the frame swung closed behind him, Helga Hufflepuff remained long enough to tut at insufficient fresh ingredients before pulling her frame back into the hidden spaces between the walls of Hogwarts once again.

_**o0o** _

When Tobias emerged from Gryffindor's war room, it was to find Draco, his face covered in glistening blue scales, angrily hexing the same scorched part of the wall of the training room where a target had been.

"Well, then, I suppose next we'll need to have you learn control over your..." He indicated his face, causing Draco to glare at him. "The stronger you're getting, the more your animagus form is pushing through to the surface. For we Blacks, it's easier to transform than most others, since our family has kept mostly to its own bloodline. The magic is very strong."

Draco willed himself to calm down, causing his face to return to normal as the scales began to shrink and pull back into his pale skin. "It's been happening more often, and when I least wish it to. What have you done to me this time?"

"Absolutely nothing," Tobias said, moving to sit at the desk. He turned the chair around to face Draco before seating himself. "It's completely you... unbound at last. And as such... we need to talk. I just finished with Potter, and we have come to the realization of a problem in time management."

"Meaning?"

"He doesn't have time to spare for proper training. He's a loose canon now, and would benefit from your experience with my methods. Unfortunately we're going to be coming out of the shadows soon to take control back of Harry's little army, and to give a big screw you to the headmaster. And... Harry doesn't have the time for everything that needs doing."

"So let his friends handle his little army. There, problem solved." Draco turned, raising his wand to begin his target practice once again, but stopped when Tobias spoke.

"I'll teach you how to properly control the beast within you. To still your mind and sharpen your focus. The secrets of the Mind Palace, to protect you from our family curse, the Grim."

At this, Draco turned. His silver eyes wide and wild. "And you will tell me how I came to be in your mind, visiting that strange world you come from?"

Tobias nodded quickly. "Yes, because it is the only way we can train Potter without stealing him away from his other duties. Hopefully, if we succeed, I may implement it with others. There is no better, more secure way to conduct the business we must in absolute secrecy from all prying eyes."

"Tonight we will begin our practice. Time is against us. Now then you'll need to learn to still the mind if you wish to keep that animagi transformation under control. Have you considered meditation to control your emotions?" he asked.

Draco did not respond, but the answer was written upon his face. Tried. And failed. "I see..." The wolf's voice was soft, contemplative. The final block on Draco's magic would not come unglued until his birthday, of that he knew for sure. It would be a long time between now and May..."It's time for that crash course I promised. You're bunking with me tonight."

Draco was about to ask for further details, when Rowena appeared upon the wall beside them. "Hurry! There's been another attack!"

"Where?!" Draco and Tobias shouted together.

"The dungeons. The students have already been moved to the infirmary. But the culprits... no one knows who. There were trace of poly-juice found nearby."

Tobias was on his feet, with Draco right behind him. "Whoa buddy, where do you think you're going?"

"I know those dungeons better than most."

"Fine. But stay out of my way," he growled.

The pair left the training chamber through Rowena's portrait. As she swung closed Hermione, Harry, and Ron had entered, searching for Tobias.


	27. 26. To Die

They emerged from the secret tunnel behind a tapestry. Tobias sniffed the air, checking to know who was gathered before the pair of them emerged from hiding. Wands were drawn the moment Remus Lupin scented their presence. Tobias placed himself between Draco and the professors.

Tobias held his hands up, his wand clearly visible sticking out of his pocket. "We are here to help," he said instantly.

Remus eyed him carefully as the Headmaster seemed to consider their arrival. "Look," Tobias said. "We've been able to successfully hide from you lot for a while now. We know secret passages Lupin and his friends never found. If the culprits disappeared into one... you see the value of our knowledge?"

While the other murmured, Dumbledore was thoughtful. "You were once a detective, were you not Mr. Black?"

"Yes. I believe I told you as much in one of our many... interviews. But I cannot do well without an assistant. Hence, why I have brought young Draco with me."

"We do need as many eyes on this as we can gather," Professor Slughorn suggested. "I'm needed at my cauldron for the students. Extra sets of eyes would not hurt."

Draco came out from behind Tobias now, confident in their safety for the moment. "I suggest we divide into groups. We will cover more ground."

"I agree with young Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore looked to his staff and gave a curt nod. "Minerva is with the students. Horace is going to brew any antidote or salve needed." He divided the staff into groups, assigning Remus to keep watch over Draco and Tobias before excusing himself to check on the status of the victims in the infirmary.

Draco and Tobias worked in near silence, carefully examining every stone in the walls. Every crack and crevice of the scene. "Who found the Polyjuice?" Tobias asked suddenly as he stood up from a squat where he had been examining dirt at the base of the wall.

"I did. I'm surprised you cannot smell it yourself. It was a particularly strong batch. The scent of it lingers."

Draco turned his body to hide the fact he did not use his wand, and whispered one of the spells he had learned from the Potter collection. It was a simple spell, intended to identify a type of sell by color. And, if one were lucky, identify the spell itself provided there were enough traces left behind.

Before him, the shallow cuts in the stonework began to glow a soft yellow. Then, slowly, they faded to a rich, bright, Gryffindor red.

"Tobias, what do you make of this?"

Remus and Tobias joined him.  He moved back some to show them what he had found. "A cutting curse," Remus said. "That could have been left behind at any time."

The glow began to fade, and Tobias turned his attention to Draco briefly before he turned it back to Remus. "The spell he used is only effective within the first forty-eight hours after a spell has been cast. The longer the time goes by, the less likely the magic traces will react to the spell."

"Who was attacked?" Draco asked quietly. "Which students?"

"Ravenclaw house. All three were from old pure blood families, if that means anything."

"No Slytherin students were injured?"

"We think they might have been the attacking party."

"The only reason someone would need to use Polyjuice is to fool someone into believing they are another. It would make sense for Slytherin students to be in the Dungeons. But not Ravenclaw or any others..."

"We will need to see if the students wake and find out from them who they believe they saw. It will rule out suspects."

Remus sniffed the air briefly before there was a sneeze from behind the tapestry. Soon, Hannah and Seamus had emerged from hiding. "We think we might know who dunnit," Seamus said. "And you're not going to like it, Mr. Lupin, sir."

"What do you know, Finnegan?"

"After Harry disappeared, our first Hogsmede trip, a couple of us went down 'o the Hog's Head. I don't know what all happened, but we reckon a few of the other DA members got their hands on some supplies they couldn't get nowhere else."

"Hm..." Tobias said, stroking his chin in thought. "Draco, you need to go back and inform Harry and the others of what's happened. Hannah, fetch Severus and have him go to the infirmary. They need all the help they can get. Seamus, Remus and I will go to the Shrieking Shack and see what we can find. I have a hunch we'll find our answers with the factions of Harry's army."

_**o0o** _

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in the training room, not knowing that moments before Draco and Tobias had been in there speaking. They had hoped to find Tobias and have him explain to Ron what had happened.

But Ron was still weak from his ordeal, yet refused to rest. He sat down in the chair Tobias had recently vacated, finding the desk close at hand to be covered in old, musty books and scattered notes.

Hermione, having been in this room before but not long enough to truly examine it now took the opportunity to study the walls and fixtures. She ran her hand along the spines of books upon the shelves. The old texts that Draco would haul out as they researched the potions and spells they needed for the dream ritual. It was only now that she saw many of them were in languages other than English, or even French. Some were in German, another written entirely in Nordic runes.

She turned her attention away from these when Ron called her over. He had a scroll of parchment open on the desk in front of him. "What's this about then?"

"It's... I don't know. It looks like plans for constructing some sort of box. But the notations look like pure nonsense."

As the two discussed the desk full of items, unknowingly picking through Tobias's plans for the war ahead, Harry rubbed at the scar in his hand where he had been cut at the ward stone. It ached as he stood in this room. But the ache was nothing like the burning fire he felt in his head from time to time. Nothing like the agony he endured whenever he had been forced to ride the connection between himself and Voldemort.

He reached up to touch the scorched section of wall, feeling the warmth of the magic imbued stones. The fading heat from many a powerful hex. This section must have been used for target practice, and recently as well.

Harry looked at his hand against the black marks upon the stone. Steady, for now. He still experienced the shakes - that would likely never leave him. Damage from both the magic placed upon him and the constant fueling of the pain potions among everything else his body had been through.

According to Neville and Blaise, his body had been flushed of all toxins, but he still felt weakened from the forced withdrawal. The desire to tip his head back and taste the bittersweet potions on his lips would never leave him either... But he could fight it like he fought everything else in his life.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, focusing on the hum of the magic in the stones and in himself. He could feel it now - his potential. It both fascinated and frightened him. Just as much as his relationships with his friends now frightened him. He wasn't the same person he had been the last few years. None of them were. Despite their rekindled camaraderie, he could see the distrust in Ron's eyes as he looked at Harry. The wariness in Hermione. What did they see in his face now?

"Harry," Hermione said, laying a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't noticed her until then. "You should come see this."

He looked at her, then beyond to Ron. A few items scattered on the table in front of him. He moved to the desk to have a look, and saw something he never expected to find here.

"That's..." he whispered, picking up the wizarding photograph. "That's my parents. How... How did this get here?" he asked, fingering the charred edge. The warped frame that once housed it sat to the side. A few more twisted, charred items lay before them. A small shoe... small enough to fit an infant. And a broken, crushed pair of glasses. "Where-"

Ron and Hermione shared a silent look. Hermione elbowed him in the shoulder, causing him to sigh and give a nod. Fine, he would be the one to say it.

"We think... We think they came from your parent's place... From when You-Know-Who attacked. Mate, Malfoy's been to your house. Your REAL house."

Harry's head snapped up, his green eyes searching Ron's face for any sign of a lie. Any sign of truth. Just... anything. Something more. Something solid.

"When 'Mione was in my head, something happened. I don't... It's not really clear-"

"Ron nearly killed Malfoy," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze. "I'm not sure how to describe it, but somehow we found ourselves outside of Ron's dreams. We, I think, had fallen into Malfoy's memories. I'm not sure how that works. It was confusing. Odd. Almost like apparating. The entire place was a mess. We were inside a ruined home. But I do remember that," she said, pointing to the photograph in Harry's hand. "If what we saw is real, then he saw it there. And someone went back afterwards to fetch these things."

"But why? I don't understand. These would only be important to me, no one else. Why would Malfoy have them?"

_**o0o** _

They had made quick work of the castle and out onto the grounds. Tobias systematically categorizing each and every detail of the scene in his mind palace as they went, led by Seamus Finnigan.

Before Remus could stun the Whomping Willow, Seamus had already done so with an ease that made it apparent he'd done this many times over. In silence the three of them traversed the tunnel from Hogwarts to the outskirts of Hogsmede with naught but a lumos at the tips of their wands.

As they drew closer to the end, Seamus cautioned them. "The Pride's not been back since Harry..."

Remus frowned in the dark. "The Pride?"

"A group of lions. Was Neville's idea. The house crest. We splintered off from Dumbledore's Army after Harry left. Now douse the lights. If she's got guards waiting, we'll want to get the drop on 'em."

At the mention of guards, both Tobias and Remus sniffed the air out of habit. But they could smell no one. They came at last to a door, and Seamus put his hand up. "Alright lads, this is it."

Without warning he burst through the door, Remus on his heels. Expelliarmus was cast as stunners were flung at them. Tobias flung his arm out, quickly casting _ Incarcerous. _ It caught the guards by surprise, seeing the ropes lash out from his five fingertips. They were quickly bound and subdued without further incident.

"Accio Wands," Tobias followed up, and collected the wands of the two students who had been lying in wait. He inspected them with a quick _ priori incantatem _ before handing them to Lupin. "Not involved in the attack."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because the darkest magic these wands have ever used is a stunner. Against us. No, these are pawns, not knights. Expendable The ones we're looking for are stronger, and higher up in the ranks." He turned his attention to Seamus and Remus now.

"What is it you wanted to show us?" Remus asked him firmly. Seamus nodded towards a staircase. One that Remus knew all too well.

"You two go on. I'll have a look around down here. Keep an eye out."

The two hesitated, unsure whether to leave him alone with the two tied up. But the needed to get to the bottom of matters. Tobias, true to his word, took a look around the lower level. It had been obvious this main room was still used for regular meetings. Though it had been rearranged from Harry's hodgepodge gathering hall with a chair at one end for him to sit during his weaker moments into something that caused his guts to twist in discomfort. The room had been arranged in a manner similar to the large dining hall Voldemort had converted into his throne room. There sat Harry's chair, raised above the others. A line of makeshift seating on either side of an obvious path down the middle.

A parody of the terror chamber in Malfoy Manor. He inspected this room carefully. Conjuring small vials and bags to collect bits of evidence he felt he may need for later. Two sets of eyes watched him as he worked, going over the entire room as carefully as he possibly could before moving into the next room.

The room in which Harry often held his most private of conversations. In here, the room was cleaner than it had been. But a small cot in the corner showed it was, at times, used to sleep in. Here he found what he had hoped not to find... strands of red. And the clear scent of the youngest Weasley. Mixed with something else. He couldn't put his finger on it. Before he could investigate further, he heard banging from the floor above. He moved as quick as he could, leaping over their prisoners as he made to join his companions upstairs.

He took the stairs two at a time. Sniffing the air, he followed the scent of the other werewolf until he found them trapped behind a locked door. Finding the locks impervious to magic, he slammed himself into the door repeatedly in an attempt to break through.

"Stay back!" he shouted, hoping they could hear him as he slammed into the door again and again. At last the old, rusty hinges gave way and he crashed into the room. He put his arm to his face to shield himself from the acrid smoke as he traversed the room, muttering under his breath to dissipate the fumes. When the smoke cleared and he could uncover his face again he found Seamus on the floor. Remus kneeling beside him, barely able to see straight.

"What the bloody hell happened up here?!"

"The door slammed shut when the smoke started. The window wouldn't break." Remus spoke between ragged breaths.

Toby nodded towards Seamus. "He still breathing?"

Remus nodded. "Only just. What could have caused it?"

Tobias took in the room. The smoke had given most of the items in it a charred scent. A blackened appearance. No doubt both Lupin and Seamus would need their lungs purged of whatever they had breathed in up here. All three of them for that matter. He strode across the room, where the damage had been the worst. Broken glass littered a makeshift work station. A pewter cauldron with a hole eaten into the side... from the interior. It was obvious this had been the source of the smoke. Made to look like an accident.

"What was the room like when you entered?"

Remus thought for a long moment. "Cold," he said. "Like the forest in winter. And a strong scent of verbena just before the smoke. Lemongrass. And Valerian root extract."

Tobias nodded, speaking to himself without any regard for his companions. "Easily overpowered sentries. Hufflepuffs - no combat experience and expendable. Gryffindors would have been better equipped for guarding the home base..."

"What are you on about?"

"Silence! I'm thinking!" Toby snapped, holding up a hand. He paced a bit sliding his fingers along charred wood of the table. The notations left nearby had taken the brunt of the damage and now only existed in a very fine, very fragile sheet of char. "Door slams shut. Likely the same moment the window deadlocked. The room went from stasis to containment, holding the explosion within..."

"You think this was deliberate?"

"I know it was," Tobias said, his voice even and calm, despite his desire to lash out and snarl at his fellow beast in a misdirected rage. What had caused such a flare of anger in him?... The book that had survived the fire. Of course it had. A previous owner had charmed it to be impervious to... well, who knew. He blew on it, closed it, and shrunk it for safekeeping. "When you two came in, you must have tripped the fail safe. This cauldron was turned into an incendiary device, meant to destroy evidence in the event someone broke in and did not know the correct counter spells to prevent the explosion. This is meticulous. Far too much attention to detail for a simple student..."

He shook his head and turned to help Remus. "We won't find anything more here. Can you stand to walk?"

"I've been through far worse of late. I can manage."

Tobias nodded. "Bring the boy. I'll fetch the other two. We'll take them to Dumbledore. Maybe learn who those children saw in the meantime."

_**o0o** _

Draco had his orders.

Draco had never been one to follow orders. Unless, of course, they had come from his parents.

And Black was as far from that role as it were possible to be.

He continued to examine the scene, having discovered the same trace spell he had used to identify the cut marks in the stone could be used to trace its caster, so long as he hurried and re-cast the spell just before the color faded completely. He had followed the trail out of the dungeons around the castle. A few times meeting with professors who had attempted to talk to him.

"Official business," he would respond as he hurried through the castle.

At last, he found himself standing before a disused ladies' lavatory; a room he knew not many entered due to the ghost residing inside. A ghost who on occasion the year previous, had acted as his confidant away from the prying eyes and ears of Dolores Umbridge.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, casting the trace spell once more. The trail was so faint, and fading quickly. It ended before an ornate series of sinks located around a central column.

"Myrtle? Are you here?" he asked, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Myrtle?"

She came up through the sink nearest him on the right. "Oh dear, sweet Draco. What's wrong? You look nearly as pale as I am."

"Much, Myrtle. But that is not why I am here. Did you see someone run in here? Hiding?"

"I did hear some... noises. Some gurgles from above me. I like sitting in the u-bends, you know. Nice and quiet. That is until someone starts running the water right through me. I came up to give them a piece of my mind, but they were gone in a flash."

Draco rubbed his face tiredly, turning to the sink now and running a bit of cold water to splash his face. What was he to tell Tobias now? That he'd lost the attackers in the ladies?

Myrtle had floated up out of the sink to hover beside him. "You should get some sleep. You look positively exhausted and stressed. I've missed your visits this year. No one ever comes to visit me here."

He splashed his face again, relishing the cool water on his skin as it reinvigorated him. But this moment of relief was not to last.

"Expelliarmus!" came the cry behind him. Before the voice could register he had reacted. Instinct taking over as his wand slid easily into his hand and he cast a stunner into the dark.

Draco ducked around behind the sinks, using them as a shield as he fought his attacker. He didn't want to harm them, not much. But the moment he heard a very familiar hex, he knew exactly who it was hiding in the dark of the stalls. He narrowly missed the Bat Bogey Hex of Ginny Weasley, the magic striking the stone of the column behind his back.

"I don't want to harm you!" Draco shouted. "I just want to talk!"

"Death Eater lies! What have you done to Harry!"

"Nothing! Lay down your wand, and I'll take you to him!"

"Lay down your wand first!"

He came out from behind the sinks to make for the door. To alert others to his location. Possibly even trap Weasley in the lavatory. He heard it before he could counter with one of the shield spells Tobias had taught him. A hex he had never heard before, and hoped as it hit him straight in the chest that he never would again.

She stood over him as he fell to the wet floor. The warmth beginning to leave him as the cold of the water from broken sinks sought to chill his dying form.

She stood over him, her red hair hanging like a curtain down the side of her face. For a moment he was triumphant. The joy of her victory palatable in the air... But these emotions were quickly replaced with realization. Fear. He stared up at her, the light in his silver eyes beginning to fade. He tried his hardest to hang onto his wand, to keep his grip strong. If he could only focus, he could do it. He could send a message to someone. Anyone.

Ginny ran, leaving Draco to bleed out.

Had she remained a few seconds longer, she would have seen the fruits of Draco's desperation. The glowing mist from his wand drifting over him and taking shape. Weak, barely visible at first until he let out a shaky breath, coughing on his own blood as he tried to give the patronus his message.

Had she remained a few seconds longer, she would have witnessed the large, proud, and lordly stag leaping through the air and into the walls in search of aid.

_**o0o** _

No matter how hard Hannah tried, she could not find her way deeper into the secret chambers to find Professor Snape. Instead, she kept finding herself in a loo attached to Draco Malfoy's bed chamber. She knew it had been a mistake to follow Finnegan up from the Foundations. But she had desperately needed fresh air.

She resigned herself at last to remaining in the living quarters of Mr. Black and Malfoy, unable to progress further and unwilling to go back into the castle. It may have been winter break, but of those students still on the grounds and prowling about... It made her shudder just how much violence she had seen since the end of term within the walls of Hogwarts.

"Oh! Hello Hannah!" Hermione exclaimed as she appeared where a section of wall had once been. She had a few old books in her arms, leaving Harry and Ron to have their man to man chat. "I thought you were below with the first years."

"Where have you been all night? There's been an attack in the dungeons."

"What?!"

"I was supposed to find Professor Snape, but I keep getting turned around." She was about to explain further when Harry's stag patronus galloped through the room suddenly. Followed by Harry himself.

"What-"

"Not mine. Follow that buck!" he exclaimed, following it to an empty frame through which it had leapt.

"But Ron's still-"

"I'm fine," the teenager in question said as he tried to keep up with Harry, but found himself winded easily. Hermione was unsure what to do... Until Hannah told her to go after Harry. Keep him from getting lost. She would watch over Ron for her.

Soon, Hermione had ducked into a darkened corridor, chasing Harry, who in turn chased the large glowing stag.

"Why do you mean it's not yours!" she called when she thought he might be close enough to hear her. His voice echoed back, "Because I didn't cast it!"

_**o0o** _

Tobias, Remus, and their charges had just gotten past the whomping willow when it happened.

Tobias fell to his knees, his 2 prisoners falling to the ground with loud thumps as his levitation charm broke. He clawed at his chest, gasping for air. There was no water, but he was drowning. He felt his lungs filling up. The coppery taste in his mouth.

Panic unlike the last time this had happened. No, far worse. Because now... now he knew what this pain meant. His mission was a failure. Draco was dead.

But he couldn't be dead, could he? Because...

It dawned on him now what was happening. The Incident. How could he forget it was going to come soon. Years from now the bitch who had done it wrote a book about it! Furthering the rift between his family and herself. Finally convincing the great Harry Potter that sometimes... sometimes there just can't be peace and friendship between some people... All that was happening now. Beginning now in these moments as he began to lose consciousness.

Large hands picked him up. The pungent smell of sweat mixed with dirt to make mud. The grime hanging off the heavy furs of the half-giant that had scooped him up so easily.

"Ya alright there Remus?" Hagrid the gamekeeper bellowed before Tobias lost consciousness in his arms, his chest falling with one final exhale.

_**o0o** _

Neville Longbottom felt a chill down his spine as if someone were walking over his grave.

Luna looked up at him, the dimming light in her loving eyes betraying the smile on her lips. She saw something... or sensed it somehow as well. "Are you alright, Neville?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with a tired sigh. "Yeah... I'm alright I suppose. Just tired."

She nodded, giving a small tut as she set down the wooden bundle she had been working on. "Why don't you get some rest."

"What about you? These wreaths aren't going to wrap themselves you know."

She tilted her head a little. "It gives me something to do. Keeps me busy so I don't think about... the things that are happening up above. I want to get some of these done before Christmas."

"You'll never get them done before then. It's two days away."

"One, now," she said confidently. "We are in the morning hours now."

"How can you tell? We've been underground for so long I've nearly forgotten what the sun looks like."

She patted his arm gently. He looked down at her face, but did not mention the tears he saw rolling down her cheeks. Because she didn't either. She did that a lot these days... "I could sit another hour or so. Make a few presents for the younger ones if you want."

"If you like," she replied, and continued to wrap the ribbon tightly around a bit of the bundle of wood, trying to contain it without magic. The tediousness kept her distracted from her nightmares of what was to come.

Of astronomy towers, great betrayals, and murder.


	28. 27.  Fraudens Mortem

"What is the meaning of this?" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed when Hagrid brought in Tobias, trying to gently lay him on a cot opposite the unconscious Ravenclaw students. Behind him, Remus struggled with the others, trying to keep his focus on his levitation charm while trying to breathe.

Dumbledore took out his wand, taking over for Remus who collapsed into a chair beside Tobias. "What happened? Why are these students tied up like this?"

"We... Mr. Finnegan arrived. Took us... Shrieking Shack. Guarding it," he waved towards the two boys who were still tied up. "Trapped."

Pomfrey bustled around quickly to see to the students first. She checked Seamus over, tutting as she hurried to the cabinet of potions. She loaded a tray full of bottles and returned to his side. One after one she used. Pouring some down his throat. Others she splashed on his face and neck. Rubbing it in. "Minerva," she said. "His shoes, please. Socks, too."

McGonogal left the Ravenclaw students' sides and did as she was asked. Pomfrey splashed a potion on Seamus's feet and rubbed it in as thoroughly as she could. Everywhere it had been rubbed into his skin turned a dark purple as if he had been beaten and heavily bruised. Once she had finished with Seamus, she moved on to Remus.

Dumbledore meanwhile had untied the two Hufflepuff boys, trying to get information from them. It was easier than he had anticipated and needed no tricks nor sleight of hand.

Quietly he reassured them that yes they were in trouble. Yes, they would be punished appropriately with detentions. Ones that they can serve when the term resumes. Until then, they were to rest from their ordeal.

When Remus had been seen to, his face a deep shade of maroon and his throat a dark purple, Pomfrey had moved on to Tobias. The werewolf lay prone on the cot where Hagrid had placed him. She cast spells to check his vitals...

"He must have breathed in more than we thought," Remus said quietly, his voice hoarse. "He did not stop... the boy and me. We would not be alive if he had not broken the door down."

Pomfrey tried everything she could... But Tobias Black was dead.

Once the Hufflepuff boys were settled, and Dumbledore rejoined his staff, Madame Pomfrey covered Tobias with a white sheet, shaking her head. "This war will make corpses of us all," she said, uncharacteristically dark. "I hope you are happy with yourself Albus."

"Happy? No," he replied solemnly. "Never happy when good lives come to a tragic end. Young Mr. Black was a remarkable man. We did not agree, and he was difficult. But he gave his life doing something he strongly believed in."

_**o0o** _

Harry and Hermione had no idea where they were. Only that where the patronus had led them was very dark and very unwelcoming. It had led them out of the tunnels and into a place Harry recognized far too easily.

The stag came to a stop at the large, rotting corpse in varied stages of decay that lay across the large, cavernous chamber.

"The Basilisk!" Harry gasped as Hermione grabbed his arm to keep herself steady as they had emerged from one of the side tunnels of the chamber. It must have been one of the numerous secret channels through which the basilisk had slithered around the castle to inflict it's deadly stare.

"But why did it bring us here?"

Harry and Hermione crept closer, spotting a house elf nearby. It saw them, alerting of their presence.

They had just come close enough to spy a large hole in the side of the corpse, and from it emerged a robe-less Snape, carrying a bucket and a short knife. "What is it you miserable creature?!" he snapped, setting the bucket down.

It was then Hermione gave a small squeak of surprise. The patronus bowed it's head to him, and then Draco's voice could be heard. Ragged and desperate. Begging for help.

Harry frowned as the house elf continued to point them out to the professor. Snape snapped at the house elf angrily as the patronus vanished. Fearful the elf took him by the arm and they disappeared in a crack of thunder.

Seconds later the house elf returned, silently took Harry and Hermione by the back of their shirts and transported them back to the chambers of Tobias and Draco. It left the pair confused and in shock of what they had just witnessed.

Hannah had screamed and Ron had yelped in surprise when his two friends had suddenly appeared from thin air.

"Well?!" he exclaimed. "What was it? Where did you go? What happened?!"

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm, shaking him to get his attention. "Harry, I think that was Draco's patronus! He must be in trouble!"

Her concern for their former enemy was not lost on Ron. "You mean Draco's patronus... looks like Harry's? I knew the slimy git was obsessed, but that's too far mate."

_**o0o** _

He was somewhere, yet nowhere at once. He felt cold, but also warm and cozy. A crackle of fire and the undeniable hum of life and activity just outside a window. His eyes burned with the brightness. Far too divine a light for a man as weighted with sin as he to behold. He felt a hand on his elbow, and he spun around to see an elderly man peering back at him with a pair of fine, delicate black spectacles perched carefully on his pointed nose. A long finger pushed the frames up to settle closer to the eyes so that the man could see him more clearly.

Tobias stepped backwards, his heart racing as he took in his blank surroundings. He knew this. Had seen this in a film so long ago, but yet so far ahead. Had read about it in a book he kept hidden in his home, fearful that the dead man before him would find it and burn it like he had all the others like it over the years. This was Harry's vision. The white room. The light at the end of the tunnel. The platform to death and what lay beyond. "How- Why- Where-" was all he could stammer out as the dead man continued to peer at him.

"Not as you had expected." The old man's wrinkled face seemed almost youthful as his lips turned ever so slightly upward into a bemused smile. "You are dying. Your organs are shutting down. As your heartbeat drops and slows to a stand still, your mind is deprived of oxygen, thus creating the illusion of your life flashing before your eyes. However, our minds have never been ones to dwell on what has come before, but rather spend their last few fleeting moments attempting to find the solution as to the cause of our demise."

"This is all in my head?" The man nodded, sliding one hand into the pocket of his gray slacks and turning to gesture with the other towards the open door. Tobias shook his head and began to back away. "This isn't real."

"I would recite a line from the film," the man said, tilting his head down just a little to peer over his glasses at him. "But you and the character who spoke it are not on good terms at the moment. However, the sentiment holds true here just as it does in the fiction. Come. Sit with me while we await your miraculous resurrection."

"But I-"

"I am afraid there will be no tea, as John chose not to accompany me on your near death experience."

Tobias sighed, let his head droop just a little like a well chastised child and went inside the purgatory that was, for these moments at least, the familiar setting of 221B Baker Street. As his father shut the door behind them, his voice took on a slight hint of curiosity. "Tell me... the experiment that killed me, was it a success or a failure? There has been much debate between myself and Lestrade as to the results of the explosion."

Tobias groaned. It was going to be a rather long few moments as he waited for time to sort itself out...

_**o0o** _

Snape knelt in the water, his hand pressed against the largest of the wounds as he whispered the counter to the curse that had struck his godson. He knew what had struck him on sight of the wounds. At the residue left behind by the spell. A curse of his own devising, to have been used against that arrogant, pompous James Potter and his friends if they sought to torment him again. How another could know it he could only guess. For he alone knew the spell, and he alone knew it's counter.

But the wounds were far too deep to heal by use of counter curse alone. Beneath his hand, as he whispered time and again the charm to reverse the process, to draw the blood back into the body and out of the water pooled around the boy, he knew the concoction he would need to finish the job. Essence of Dittany would be needed to finish the job. But the boy would be forever scarred where he suffered the worst of the damage.

When his work was done, Snape checked his pulse. He checked his breathing. Shallow, but steady. He would live. This place, this school... it was a fortress to be certain. But it was not safe for those who fell outside the accepted image of heroism and bravery. It had always been unkind to snakes.

Whomever had done this, he would have their head if given the opportunity. Until then...

"Vitus!" Snape shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the ladies toilets. A smartly dressed house elf appeared beside him, bowing low.

"Master Severus. Vitus comes when called."

"Take Draco to his chambers hidden deep in the castle. Apply Essence of Dittany from my private stores to his chest. Seven drops. No more, no less."

The wizened house elf looked from his master to the boy. He narrowed his eyes and looked back to his master as if to question his sanity. Then, with a slow nod the creature hobbled to the boy and took his hand. After a few moments of skin to skin contact, the house elf hummed to himself. "Master Draco to his rooms at Hogwarts. Never back to true home. Dittany for wounds, yes."

"Just go!" Snape snapped angrily, pulling his wand from his sleeve, about to punish the creature for dawdling too long.

Just as the stinging hex was on his tongue, the house elf glared at him and disappeared with the boy in a crack of thunder.

_**o0o** _

Tobias stalked back and forth before the colorless fire. Then the windows. "How much longer must I wait here!"

"As long as is necessary," came the response from the old man seated in the equally colorless leather chair – perched as he often had been in his youth with his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Ash colored eyes watching the younger man pace impatiently around. "Try the violin. It may soothe your nerves."

"I'll smash the bloody thing over your head if you suggest that one more damnable time!" Tobias roared. "You're not even here anyway. None of this is. I'm just having some bizarre hallucination before my brain finally shuts down!"

"I never told John why I insisted so strongly on calling you Tobias."

The younger man's head turned quickly, almost painfully with the speed of the action, to look at him as he paced by once again. Angry silver eyes narrowed. "If you think for once instant-"

"I had met you before. No, not your accidental visit during the summer. I met you in a cafe. You told me to kick the habit and return to England."

"No no no!" Tobias growled, storming up to the man, shaking his finger in accusation. "No! You are not allowed to do this to me! My whole life has been nothing but some... some... predetermined road map to lead me to accomplish the impossible! This war will be the death of me, and you know it! I know it! The world knows it! If I die here, then fine! I got Draco out of that hellhole! Mission accomplished!"

He sighed, closing his eyes as the younger man continued to rant and rail at him. He waited in silence as the werewolf paced and stomped and stormed about in his rage. Until, at last, he heard a body drop into the chair across from him, much as John Watson had often done after a rather vigorous midnight chase through the back streets of London. "Are you quite finished with your tantrum, Angelo?" He opened one eye to see the younger wave a hand dismissively from the white, otherworldly version of John Watson's comfortable chair.

"Terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with Time."

"Yeah. So I've been told. We've all been told. That's straight from the films, by the way. Prisoner of Azkaban, I believe."

"I am well aware... But have you not realized what it truly means? Terrible, as all adjectives, is a matter of perspective. Time, as you experience it, is linear. And yet time as I now experience it is not. It is a series of interconnected moments that form a larger picture. Moments of similar make grouped together, but not necessarily in an order that makes sense to the living. And yet, you, and all other wizards who have meddled with time stand out. You are able to experience a fraction of what we witness from beyond the Veil.

"The consequences of time travel are what makes it terrible. Unable to interact directly with major events for fear of destroying the future, your present. The longer the temporal distance, the less opportunity to reunite with those you love. For a historian, you fail to see the common denominator of all witches and wizards who have experienced your situation. When you put your fingers to the time turner, unknowing if it would work, you had nothing left. Your children had grown into fine, independent and intelligent young women. Your wife and son had died, leaving you no solid link to the human world. As a result, you only truly came alive during the full moon, stalking the forest near your home. Your brothers and sister had moved on, started families of their own...

"All who become displaced as you have lose everything before they journey backwards or forwards. Rightfully, the statement should be 'terrible things have happened to wizards who meddle with time'. Otherwise, why undertake what amounts to a suicide mission?"

Tobias stood once again, wanting at first to strike the manifestation created by his mind's lack of oxygen. But instead, he turned to the mantle. To the blank books and the vacant sheets of paper in solid white frames. And he reached up, flinging everything to the floor in a howl of rage and regret. In anger and despair. And then, he cried. Leaning forward and resting his head against the wood. Wishing the fire that burned before him could put out any heat to dry his tears lest they hit the floor beneath him. In this place there existed only himself... and the specter of his subconscious.

"Why is it you?"

"Speak up."

His voice was as hard as it was cold as he willed himself to maintain what little control he had left. "Why is it YOU? Why are you wearing THAT face? Of all the people... all the people I have loved, why HIM?"

He clenched his fist and punched the wall beside the mantle, trying his best to maintain control. To will himself to fight the despair that threatened to overtake him. "Why Sherlock!"

He felt a hand on his shoulder then. A gentle squeeze from that familiar, age spotted hand. Gentle prompting to turn. And like a frightened, confused child, Tobias did turn. And he wrapped his arms around the old man, holding him tightly as he sobbed into his shoulder. The demand of "why why why" still passing from his lips, muffled by dark purple wool. The old man wrapped his arms around him to comfort him.

Stroking his wild, dirty blond hair as he often had when the werewolf had been a small child. "Our time is nearly done," he said, calming the werewolf and holding him out at arm's length. "I named you Tobias because it what you had etched into the napkin that had been beneath your bill when you signed the credit card receipt in the cafe. After the summer you obliviated from our minds, small pieces settled into place. A sense of de-ja-vu and the way certain names felt familiar when spoken. After I died, I could see the missing pieces, and how they fit together to make the whole that is your life."

"I don't want to do this anymore. It's too much for one man to carry. I don't know what I'm meant to do other than having saved Draco. The rest-"

"The events will unfold whether you wish them to or not. The key points will always remain the same. Draco escapes. He joins the Order with Harry. Draco is nearly killed twice. Harry and Draco are separated by the war for a time. Harry travels to destroy the Horcruxes. Harry dies so that he may live. Draco fights by his side. They defeat the Dark Lord, survive the war together, and elope to Venice. Immutable facts. All events that, whether you are present or not, will happen. It is the details, Angelo, that change. The little things that affect the outcome. Stop analyzing the situation and rely on your instinct."

"Now I know I'm dying, and hell hath frozen over. You! You of all people telling me to trust my gut over my head!"

The elderly visage of his father tutted at him, and fixed him with a hard stare. "Yes. Stop trying to emulate me. You're a Watson, damn it. Now act like one!"

_**o0o** _

Ginny ran as fast as he legs could carry her, the map clutched tightly in her hands as she avoided as many of the ghosts as she could. It would not do to have her seen out of bed during the night. At last, she found a nook to hide in. Pressing her back against the ancient stones, she fought to catch her breath, using the gentle light of a lumos to quickly check for nearby footsteps.

It hadn't gone according to plan. Nothing had since Ron had been taken from them. Since Harry had told her her loved her as a sister and nothing more. Since that insufferable Malfoy had appeared in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

Since the diary had been destroyed...

No. She must remain objective. Whether Harry would change his feelings for her or not didn't matter right now. She simply had to find him, and save him from the influence of Malfoy. It did not make sense for him to change his allegiances unless he had something to gain. He would have no reason unless he had been sent as a spy for You-Know-Who.

She looked at the map again, Harry's map which had been left behind at her brother's abduction. Likely the students she and her allies had attacked would be taken to Madame Pomfrey. She hoped that whatever glamour or charm or potion the supposed Ravenclaws had used would wear off before they were to be released. Only then would her name be clear and she could return to her friends...

That is... if no one saves Malfoy. She didn't know what the spell would do, exactly. She'd only used it one other time, and had missed her targets. She didn't know how effective it was. She didn't know it was deadly. She didn't know it would...

She looked at Parkinson's name on the map again. Hiding in plain sight among her master's enemies. Right alongside Crabbe and Goyle.


	29. 28. Falsum Carnem

First a groan. Interrupted by coughing. A dead man's head turned to the side beneath the sheet and from his lips oozed a blackened mucus emanating a foul odor. It landed on the stone floor beside the cot with a wet sounding slap.

Madame Pomfrey shrieked in surprise and dismay as the spittle trailing the black mass had been streaked red with blood, and thus stained the white sheet that had been covering his head and face. His lungs clearing from the poisoned air... and the clot in his lung tasting of another man's blood. With his first breath of clean air, he hoarsely joked, "Not dead yet."

The sheet was ripped from him by Madame Pomfrey once she had regained her composure. "Mr. Black!" she snapped, her voice attempting to be both cross and relieved at once. It came out sounding scandalous instead.

Dumbledore looked on as the others chimed in their surprise and astonishment. The headmaster had to admit to himself... he was quite impressed.

"It's a bloody miracle!" Seamus exclaimed as Tobias sat up on the cot, using the corner of the sheet he'd reclaimed from Pomfrey to wipe at his mouth. "A bloody miracle!"

Toby's voice was still hoarse, his throat raw. He glanced to the floor where the black clot of blood had landed, filled with poison from the air in the Shrieking Shack. The clot of blood that was not his own... a side effect of the Unbreakable Vow perhaps? Certainly part of Draco's injury, of that he had no doubt as he rubbed absently at his chest. the same place Draco would forever carry the scars of the bathroom attack. He would need to check himself later for any marks on his own skin. There was much he needed to sort out about his mixed up time line…

Dumbledore coughed, drawing everyone's attention away from the now silent Tobias. "Mr. Finnegan is correct. A miracle indeed." He stroked his beard in thought a moment as he pondered the situation at hand. Ravenclaws in the wrong part of the castle. Students who, to his knowledge had gone home for the holiday. Hufflepuffs acting out of sorts and a clear indication of a cat and mouse game... He gave a small nod towards Tobias, Remus, and Seamus. "We will have time later to learn all the details. For now, everyone needs to rest and recover from tonight's excitement."

_**o0o** _

They heard the thunder from the other side of the bedroom door... Draco's bedroom door. Harry made to rush towards it, but Ron stopped him. "Hang on mate," he said. "You don't know..."

"I'll go," Hannah said, rising from her seat. She pulled out her wand and with Hermione close behind her, went to the door. They stood on either side of it, unsure what they may find. Ron kept Harry at a distance, both their wands out and ready to defend themselves if necessary.

Hannah looked to Hermione, who nodded. Then, carefully she put her hand to the knob and opened the door. The two girls burst into the room, wands up and at the defensive against... well... nothing.

"Clear!" Hannah called back. Harry pushed past Ron and hurried into the room. Ron followed close on his heels, but remained in the hallway. Laid out on the covers of the bed was Draco. Pale as death and his clothes shredded at the chest. "Looks like he's dead," Ron said as Harry edged closer to the bed. Hermione put a hand out to stop him, but he brushed her off. He had to see for himself what had happened to him. He had to see...

Hermione had moved to the nightstand, examining the bottles there. One of them boasted an old, yellowed label with Professor Snape's spidery handwriting. "Dittany," she read aloud before placing it carefully back. "He must have been near death," she said softly.

Ron had finally come into the room proper. There was something about this situation that didn't feel right. Malfoy was their enemy. Harry's rival. A son of a Death Eater. Not just any Death Eater – the one that nearly killed his sister in second year by giving her that stupid book...

"If you want, I'll keep watch on him," Ron said flatly. "You two need a rest after... you know. Helping me."

"Ron's right," Hermione said. She looked to Hannah now. "We could all use a proper rest."

_**o0o** _

Draco awoke hours later with a shout and a start, grabbing at his chest frantically before at last settling down. The realization that he was alive, he was breathing, had finally set in. "Thank the gods," he whispered to himself.

"Gods had nothing to do with it."

Draco looked up to see Ron Weasley seated by the door of his bed chamber. And the Weasel did not look at all pleased to be there. "Are you still..."

"Three things," Ron said, the calmness to his voice causing Draco's heart to race in alarm. "Merlin knows why they trust you, but I don't. If you harm one hair on my friends' heads, I will kill you. If you betray us, I will kill you. And if you so much as think about changing sides again I-"

"You'll kill me," Draco muttered loud enough for the thick headed Gryffindor to hear him. "Yes. I believe I get the idea..."

Ron narrowed his eyes, inspecting the Slytherin who had taunted and tormented them for years up to this point. "Yes. And I'll do it with my bare hands."

"Point taken. Are you quite finished trying to intimidate me, Weasley, or must I sit here and suffer more of your simple minded-"

At that moment, there could be heard in the room a loud cacophony of bells and chimes. Draco covered his ears at the sound, as it threatened to render him deaf with it's volume. Ron cocked his head a little to the right, unsure of what would be causing the boy in the bed to start having a fit.

"Can't you hear that?!" Draco shouted, alerting the girls camping in the common room to his awakened state.

Hermione was the one to venture in and check on them, assuming the worst – that Ron had decided to strangle the recovering Slytherin in his sleep. She was relieved to see Ron was seated by the door, nowhere near the bed.

"Granger!" Draco shouted, far too loudly for the quiet room. "Can't you hear that?"

She turned to Ron, who shrugged. "Honestly I didn't lay a finger on 'im. He just.... well... this." He gestured to Draco's wincing face, his white hands clamped over his ears before he grabbed a pillow to wrap as best as he could around his head to block out the noise.

Hermione nodded, then bit her lip in thought. "I honestly don't know what to make of this. He was nearly dead from the look of him. Perhaps his senses are overly sensitive due to his near death experience. What may be a simple little murmur to us might be a scream to him."

"So if I really wanted to make him angry..."

"Ronald, don't you even think about it," she said. A hand on her hip, then quieter just in case her thoughts might be correct, "We need to ask one of the professors. Or wait for Harry. Hannah and I can look through Draco's book collection here for something. Or, you could go to the library and look up-"

"No no. I'll be fine here."

"Anything to get out of studying," she replied, nudging his arm. "We should probably leave him be, just in case... Come on."

Draco glared at them as he continued to try and block out the sound. Unfortunately, it wasn't working. He couldn't hear himself think. He couldn't.... he couldn't shut the noise out. What began as bells and chimes had now become a roaring drum beat. A drum beat in time to his heart. The very air felt... it felt as if his skin were on fire. Every inch of him burned. He felt flushed and swore his bed had become soaked with sweat. He turned, trying to bury himself in the sheets. Trying to hide in the hope it would just.... stop.

And then... it did. Shut off like faucet. Silence. Blessed silence. The sheets felt cool on his skin as he moved, shifting some to become more comfortable beneath them. And now with no blood thirsty Weasel watching over him, he settled in for a bit more sleep. Just a little.

_**o0o** _

He sighed.

He rolled over on the cot.

He sighed again.

"How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours."

He sniffed the air. "Potter."

The invisibility cloak was opened to reveal a very haggard looking Harry. "Aren't you meant to be dead?"

"Aren't you meant to be sleeping?" Tobias pushed himself up into a sitting position, the sheet falling to his waist. It was still stained, now a dark brown, from where he had coughed up the blood that had threatened to choke him to death. The smoke that had tried to poison him.

"It takes a lot to make me tired enough to sleep lately."

"And it takes a lot more than little smoke traps to kill an old dog like me." He stretched his arms upward, his shirt torn at the chest. Unknown to Harry, in the same place Draco had taken his deadly hit. Toby yawned, then put his hands on his lower back and attempted to pop it before removing the tattered shirt. "Pity. I liked that one."

"Draco nearly died," Harry said quietly. "How was your night?"

"Well, you know." He swung his legs around to put his feet on the floor. "Nearly died of smoke inhalation, asphyxiation, then sudden heart attack. At my age," he said, touching his fist to his chest. "A bum ticker is your worst enemy." He cracked his neck by rapidly tilting it right, then left, then right again before rolling his shoulders some in an attempt to get them to also pop and crack. "You?"

"You know. Chasing strange things that go bump in the night with my friends." This time, Harry smiled a bit. Then he looked to the other sleeping bodies in the hospital wing. "And the rest of them?"

"That.... is a bit of a story. And I really shouldn't tell it to you."

Harry rolled his eyes and moved to sit on the end of his bed, to sit beside Draco's odd protector... and his blood bound servant. The idea was still strange to him, but it was what it was he supposed. "But you're going to tell me anyway. Because I shouldn't know."

"And deprive old beard face of telling you his version of events?" He caught Harry's frown from the corner of his eye. "Well... might as well since he'll lie to your face bold as you please. Short version or the long one?"

"I want all of the details. I'm sick and tired of not knowing what's going on right under my nose."

And so, Tobias told him. He recounted, in as much detail as he could remember and safely share with Harry, the events of the night that led to his near death... and hinted at Draco's. He knew, however, he could never tell Harry that it had been Ginny that attacked his future husband. That... that was a secret best left for when Ginny published her novels far into the future. When he had finished, Harry stared at him incredulously. "Hufflepuffs did this?" he asked in disbelief, gesturing to the sleeping Seamus and Lupin.

"No. Not Hufflepuffs. They don't... they don't smell right. The entire shack didn't smell right. But before I could get a proper scent, well..." he too gestured to the sleeping student and former school teacher. "As for the ones who began all of this, I can only imagine what Draco found. I shouldn't have left him behind." He rested his hand in his lap, and resisted the urge to clench it into a tight fist. To master his anger and his rage by just... trying to ball it up in his hand. To keep it under control. But no, he needed his anger to flow through him. He needed the rage to keep him motivated. To keep him going. "But what happened there must have had a reason. Open warfare is a Gryffindor tactic, not Slytherin. And more Ravenclaw students are attuned to the darker arts than most people assume. Slytherins, without reason, would not attack potential allies."

"If they're not Hufflepuff students, then who are they?" Harry asked, looking towards the boys on the nearby cots. "Are they even students?"

Tobias shrugged. His sense of smell was still... contaminated. That trap was not devised for whomever happened upon it. That trap was devised for him. Possibly Lupin as well. "I cannot be certain," he admitted. Uncertainty always left a bitter taste in his mouth. "There is one thing I know for sure. The magics used are not taught within these walls. The skill level of the witch or wizard responsible is remarkable to pull of such a feat. I believe what Lupin, Seamus, and I encountered was a deliberate attack on Lupin and myself. Your friend Finnegan led us right into a trap."

Harry glanced at the sleeping boy before turning his attention back to Tobias. "He's my friend. He wouldn't-"

"He may not have even known. Dumbledore's Army fell apart after you left them. That is, I'm afraid, partly my fault. And for that I am very sorry. I treated you all like chess pieces rather than children. And now friends are fighting, houses are divided, and I've really fucked up."

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up. Mistakes happen all the time. If you keep obsessing over it, you'll end up... like me. You don't want that."

Silence fell between them as Harry took his hand away again. "I should be going. Check on Ron and the others." He stood, but Tobias caught him by the wrist to stay him.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"How do you make yourself keep going, knowing everything depends on you? Knowing that every choice you make, good or bad, will have consequences that may get others hurt, or even killed?"

He shrugged. "I go to sleep, and hope no one tries to kill me tomorrow." Tobias released his wrist, letting his hand fall back into his lap. "Having someone to fight helps. If you surround yourself with only friends and family, you'll have nothing to focus your anger on. Nothing to release your frustration at."

He felt his lips pull into a small, thin smile. "Here I thought you were just always fighting Draco because he made fun of your friends."

"Well, I couldn't exactly take it out on my cousin Dudley." He wrapped himself in the invisibility cloak again, hiding himself from view completely. Tobias sniffed the air, barely scenting Harry as he made his way across the room. It may be a while before he gets his sense of smell sorted out again. The last sign that Harry had been to see them were his parting words at the door. "He's a muggle. It wouldn't have been a fair fight."

_**o0o** _

Hermione screamed. Ron had his wand out and had placed himself between Hermione and the bed. Hannah, poor Hannah was petrified to the spot. Her hands gripping the tray of food she had brought in for Draco to eat, to try and regain his strength.

This was the scene Harry had walked into when he returned from his visit to the hospital wing.

He'd thrown off his cloak in the common room as he passed through, so as not to spook his friends. He already had his wand out and was about to join Ron when he saw it. Slithering on the bed where hours before Draco had been.

A silvery, scaled creature. Curled up on the bed with the sheets in the floor. Slight charring on the bedpost. This was...

"That's a dragon!" Ron shouted.

"A wyvern, actually. Dragons have four legs. Wyverns only have two," Hermione hissed.

"Whatever it is, it ate Malfoy!" he snapped back.

Harry watched as the creatures head lifted, tilting as if responding. Harry kept his wand out, but lowered it just a little. Just enough to not immediately be a threat, but also to throw out a hex quickly if necessary. "Say that again, Ron."

"What?"

"Say what you just said again."

"I don't-"

Hermione watched the creature's head during their exchange. It calmly stared at them, tilting it's head slightly each time the speaker changed. "Harry... Ron..." she said. "I think that IS Malfoy."

"You can't be serious," Ron replied, never taking his eyes off the creature, and never lowering his wand. Harry, of course, being the brave idiot that he often is, carefully stepped closer, but angled himself towards Hannah. "Here, give me the tray."

"I can't.... I-"

"I know you're scared," he said in his most reassuring tone. "I know you are. This is really weird. And there's some monster sitting right there in front of you. But Hannah, there's worse things out there. If it wanted to hurt you, it would have by now."

"I... You didn't see what it... It's so..."

"Hannah, listen to Harry. Trust him. He's the one who helps Hagrid with his dangerous creatures. He knows what he is talking about."

Harry moved closer to her, placing himself between her and the bed, thus closing the gap with the bed. In order to take the tray from her, he would have to turn his back on the wyvern. He hoped his hunch was correct... his hunches usually were. Mostly. He took a deep breath and turned around, placing his hands on either side of the tray. "When I tell you to, let go. You need to calmly leave the room. Don't look at it. Just keep your eyes on the door. Nod so that I know you understand." She nodded. "Alright. Deep breath now, Hannah. Now let go."

She hesitated a moment, but quickly dropped her hands, transferring the tray of food to Harry and rushing from the room. Hermione watched in awe as Harry slowly, with the tray in front of him, turned back around.

Ron's wand arm never wavered. He bit the inside of his cheek so hard to keep from spitting out a hex. He tasted the coppery flavor of blood on his tongue as he bit into his cheek a little too hard...

"Malfoy," Harry said, and the snout turned towards him. Sniffing the air as strange, silvery reptilian eyes blinked at him. The double lid was... bizarre to say the least. The trio's past experiences with dragons... never allowed them to get this close and cozy. And first year was quite a long while ago, Harry couldn't recall if he'd been calm enough then to really look at the creature Hagrid had hatched.

"Malfoy, is that you?"

The creature tilted it's head, blew air out of it's nose in Harry's face as if releasing a heavy sigh before rearing up and attempting to change positions.

Ron, thinking Harry was about to be mauled, cast a stupefy, but Hermione had seen the creature's underbelly as it reared up. The scars across it's chest, between the wings. She knocked Ron's arm to deliberately make him miss. The wyvern gave off a roar at the shot of red that whizzed past it and made to strike out at the red head.

Harry quickly placed himself between Ron and the creature. "Draco! Draco it was an accident!" His words had no effect. "Get him out of here!" he shouted to Hermione, who did not need to be told. She was dragging Ron out of the room before he could get another chance. The wyvern made to follow, but Harry held up the tray and... metal met snout with a loud crack.

Food went flying across the room.

And Harry stood between the door and the wyvern now. "You want to eat him, you'll have to go through me. And you know what will happen if you do."

The creature glared down at him, as if truly considering it before slinking off back to it's sort-of nest on the bed.

"You're all bloody mad, you are!" he heard from the room beyond the door. Hannah was shaking, and Hermione had been trying to calm her down.

Harry hoped that either Draco would turn back to normal, or that Tobias would return to the rooms and explain to them what was going on. Because frankly, Harry didn't want to think what may happen if Draco remained stuck in.... in whatever this form that had become him was until the end of the war or longer.

He didn't even want to think what would happen if Draco actually grew larger. This... this size they could maybe manage. He was the size of a baby dragon. But what if...

No. Harry really didn't want to think about that. Not right now.


	30. 29. Ventus Sanctorum

Ginny had been hiding ever since she had attacked Draco in the ladies loo. Using the map to keep out of sight, she was surprised to see during the night that Harry had appeared upon the map. She had followed him to the infirmary, but had remained outside, for she had seen Professor Lupin's name and that other werewolf on the old enchanted paper.

She had followed Harry once again when it showed him leaving the hospital wing. She did not lay eyes on him when he passed her hiding spot, but she could watch the dot on the map as he slipped around beneath his invisibility cloak.

After a close call with Filch and Mrs. Norris, she had decided to take a hidden path behind a tapestry in an attempt to intercept Harry. Try and explain to him what was going on. That it wasn't really her who had been hurting people. That it was Pansy doing it.

But before she had reached the other end of the hidden path Harry had disappeared from the map. She checked and checked, but where he had disappeared had not been the seventh floor. He could not have gotten into the Come and Go room. But somehow, he had left the castle. Or at the most, found a way to hide where not even the map could detect him.

When she searched the area that Harry had disappeared in later, she found only a curious portrait staring back at her. A painting of a woman with long black hair and a dress in shades of red and green. Trimmed in silver and gold.

"Child," the painting said. "You're not allowed this way. This corridor is for staff only. Are you lost?"

"My friend," she replied. "I think... no. He must have gone another way," she said quietly. "Have you seen anyone come through here? A boy? A student?"

The woman in the painting seemed to consider her answer for a moment, then shook her head. "I did see a tall gangly fellow hours ago. He had wandered off that way I believe." The woman pointed back the way Ginny had come. When the girl had looked back down the corridor, then back at the wall to the painting she had been speaking to – the wall had been blank. No sign of it ever having been hanging there.

Ginny consulted her map, walking onward as she sought a place to wait out until morning.

 

_**o0o** _

 

Harry had left the room, conjuring large locks and chains to lock the door behind him. Hermione and Ron pushed the largest pieces of furniture they could to barricade it against the wyvern inside.

"What are we doing to do?" Hermione asked her friends when they had settled themselves in the training room. "We cannot leave him like that."

Ron sat on a stool, gripping the seat with his legs hanging off the sides. "Sure we can. I like him much better this way, actually. Can't cause us any more trouble while he's locked up. Hidden in the walls, he can't hurt anyone either."

"Ron, you don't mean that."

"I do," he snapped back. "One of us has to use some common bloody sense here. He might have a fancy new coat of paint, but he's the same old Malfoy. You can't make me trust him, 'Mione. Even if Harry's got his head in the clouds."

"I've got my what?"

"Listen mate, I'm your best friend. And as your friend, I'm telling you that you've got to stop thinking with this," he said, forming a fist and tapping his own chest a few times before pointing at his own head. "And start thinking with this. It's nothing but trouble."

"Ronald, Harry can't just stop caring for people just because you don't like them. None of us can."

"I'm telling you. He's in your head, mate. Not like that weird devil magic that mutt of his did to my head to straighten me out, but really in your head. It's weird, innit, 'Mione? Ever since he dropped out of thin air at Grimmauld, Harry's been obsessed with him. Bewitched!"

"I am not bewitched," Harry snapped, trying his best to keep his emotions under control. He clenched his fists at his sides, attempting to will himself to keep from lashing out in anger. "He's changed, Ron. He's not like he used to be-"

"Then tell me what he's like! You've been cooped up here with him for ages! But not me. I've been out there, trying to hold your army together with a kettle and a bit of string! What's so bloody important about Malfoy that you abandon your friends? Abandon the cause?!"

Hermione didn't have time to react as Harry leaped forward. The two boys rolled around on the floor grappling one another. For Hermione, it was fourth year all over again. This time, she was prepared. Now if they would only hold still long enough for her to immobilize them.

After a few misses, which in retrospect were quite comical to behold as books and papers had become suspended in the air as the two boys had knocked them loose from shelves and the table, she finally managed to catch them when they had backed themselves into a corner.

Ron had been frozen in place using a knee and his body weight to pin Harry down to the floor, one arm raised up as if to strike him again. Harry's glasses lay broken further back in the room. His face a mess of a broken nose, busted lip, and angry green eyes staring up at Ron. Waiting for him to strike, but now knowing that the blow would not come.

Hermione carefully unpicked her spell, using another to redirect Ron's aim to the floor beside Harry's head when she had unfrozen them. However, Ron's fist never came down on the hard floor, as within seconds of Hermione casting her little nudge and undoing her freezing spell, both she and Ron were thrown back by an unseen, but powerful force.

Thankfully Hermione landed on a pile of books. While not the greatest cushion, it was better than the treatment Ron had gotten. The boy had hit one of the bookshelves, the shelves to come crashing down. Harry's hand flew up as he gave a shout and the bookshelf, which had just started to tip forward stopped before it could come crashing down on his oldest friend.

"Was ANY of that really called for!" Hermione shrieked in a rage, struggling to get up from the pile of books. She staggered to her feet, holding her wand tightly in her hand and ready to hex the next one that even so much as sneezed. "You two are friends! No, you're more than that, you're brothers!"

"Brothers fight," Ron groaned from beneath the pile of books and shelves. "Trust me, I've got five."

Harry had rolled onto his stomach, but kept his hand up. His arm stretched out. "I don't think I can hold it much longer," he said, indicating the bookshelf that threatened to crash on top of Ron. Hermione glared at him, then hurried to help dig Ron out. Once he was clear of the wreckage Harry put his arm down, laying on the floor with his cheek pressed against the cold stone. He was so sore. And so tired. Of fighting. Of the war. Of everything.

Hermione picked up a chair and helped Ron into it before moving to crouch beside Harry. Her elbows were on her knees, her wrists crossed and her wand still clutched tightly. "Harry," she said. "What was that?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I was just so angry."

"Because of Malfoy?"

"Because of everything. Ron was right. I abandoned them. The moment I left them, everything started to fall apart. I'm not thinking with my head anymore."

"Is it because... when we were brought here? That... dream thing they did to you?"

"I don't know... maybe. I just feel, I dunno Hermione. There's things he saw in my head, things I never- things i can't ever tell anyone. It's hard to explain it, but Draco's seen parts of me that I don't even like to think about, you know."

He gave a small nod and bit her lip in thought. "The dream thing," she said, "He was your anchor, wasn't he? To make sure you got through it alright? That's how he knew what to do. Because he'd done it for you."

Harry closed his eyes, grateful that his poor vision prevented him from seeing the concerned look on her face. "He was. That might be why his patronus..."

She glanced over her shoulder to look at Ron, who had been staring at them, possibly trying to work out what they were talking about. If Draco's experience with Harry had been anything at all like her own with Ron in that strange dream world, then she could perfectly understand. In the past, she cared very much for Ron. But he had always been her friend. He teased her, mocked her at times. But it was in jest... And yet in fourth year, the Yule Ball... She shook her head and tried her best to smile reassuringly as she looked back down to Harry. "We'll figure this out. We always do. But we'll do it together. Now get up so we can clean you up a bit.

"I've got the git's glasses," Ron called over, waving the broken frames for her to see when she helped Harry to his feet. She found another chair, and helped Harry to sit beside Ron. The pair sat uneasily next to one another, neither wanting to get a proper look at the damage they had done. Ron held out his glasses, and Harry took them. Tried to fix them, and failed. Ultimately it was up to Hermione to repair them, and to realign Harry's nose for him. Hearing the crack of the cartilage, and his pained expression did give her a small amount of satisfaction. After all, she was the one who always pointed out to the two ruffians that their actions had consequences.

"Before I let you get to work cleaning all of this up," she said, hands on hips, "You're going to apologize, and then say one nice thing to one another. And you have to mean it." When neither boy spoke up, she frowned. "I've got all night. Or I can feed you to the baby wyvern in the bedroom."

 

_**o0o** _

 

Tobias wouldn't go back to sleep. He couldn't. Too much had happened in such a short time. He roamed the castle. Thinking. Brooding. Unable to get a clear scent of the place. Whatever had been in the smoke it had done severe damage to his sense of smell. Even now he felt a little winded.

What he wouldn't give for the Marauders' Maps. Even just one of the four maps would be of great help to him now. He found himself outside, stalking the grounds much as he would stalk the streets of London late at night in his teen years. He had nowhere in particular in mind, only that he needed fresh air. And a desire to roam. To try and make sense of everything that had happened to him in the last day and night.

Tobias had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he had been caught quite by surprise when he had bumped headfirst into the lumbering, shaggy fur clad Hagrid. Dragging a large fir tree behind him in the early hours of the morning. After Hagrid's surprise to see him still hanging around the castle, and a long lecture on what he will do to him if he harms one hair on his dear friend Harry's head, and his friends, and, well... anyone really, Tobias offered to help him with whatever it had been that he were doing.

Much to Tobias's surprise...

It was Christmas Eve.

 

_**o0o** _

 

He'd returned to the rooms he shared with the students to find.... well... All the furniture on one side of the room blocking off the bedroom and no one to be found. "Hello?" he ventured carefully, stepping into the room cautiously. "Hello?!"

The door to the training room opened. Hermione stepped out looking the worse for wear.

"Sh... they've only just finally gone to sleep."

"What the hell happened here?" Tobias asked, waving his arms to indicate the state of the room, as well as herself.

"It's a long story, and I'm rather tired..."

"Fine. You can sleep in my bed," he said, going to the opposite end of the room and pulling back a heavy tapestry depicting a hunting party. There behind it had been a heavy wooden door. "Apologies for any odd smells that might be in there. Cleaning is not my strong suit after I've finished making potions."

She looked at him, an expression of disbelief on her face. "This room. This room has been hiding here this entire time. And only NOW are you offering to let someone use it?"

"Well... I do need a secret safe place so I don't claw people's faces off around my time of the month, now don't I miss Granger. Go on. I've had enough sleep to last me a long while yet. You rest and when you lot get up you can explain why Draco's door is covered in furniture."

Once she was gone and the door closed behind her, he set to work reorganizing the common room. Once he had pulled all the furniture away from Draco's bedroom door, he found the heavy chains and locks upon it. Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder to the training room. He shook his head, and began to carefully undo the magical locks. Once he was through, he opened the door and poked his head around it. Draco sat on the bed staring at him. Naked and surrounded by tattered blankets, sheets, gutted goose-down pillows, and shredded bed curtains. Large claw marks adorned charred bedposts. Some of them even digging into the stone floor beside the bed.

"So... that's when this happens," was all Tobias said before closing the door. He went straight to the mantle, pulled down a book he stored there and opened it to reveal two shot glasses and a bottle. These he set on a small table beside the chair before the fireplace. And poured himself two much needed shots of the very strong firewhisky.

He was not expecting to have to give Draco the family talk. Not this soon at any rate. He tossed his head back and poured one drink down his throat, holding his breath briefly as he felt the fire burn it's way down. Then, he picked up the other, held it up in a toast. "To the Nymph loving Blacks. If only you knew that it would make you into hyper intelligent nymphomaniacs that'll shag anything that moves, I wouldn't be dealing with an animagus going through puberty." He poured the second drink down his throat, then picked up the bottle to refill both glasses.

"Screw it," he said to himself. "This is my bloody Christmas present to myself." He put his lips to the bottle, his feet up on a stool, and decided to drown out the world for a while.

 

_**o0o** _

 

Severus Snape had left the castle after Draco's attack. He was furious, for more reasons than the obvious. He did not show it, for he knew to even carry a hint of it in his mind was to invite the Dark Lord to violate it. Instead, he put his anger to where it would be useful. His work. For good or ill, he was still a double agent of the Light. And his duty to the cause came second after Potter's safety. Potter was now safe. Therefore, his duty needed to be tended.

"You are late," Bellatrix hissed when he joined the table before the Dark Lord.

"Picking through the rotting remains of a four year's dead corpse is dirty work, Bellatrix. You should thank me for not attending our Lord's table covered in rotted meat." It was now he noticed the said Dark Lord was not in attendance at his customary place upon the table. "Where is he this evening?"

"That is none of your concern, potions master," said another marked man at the table before sinking his teeth into the hunk of meat hanging off his fork. "Stick to your brews and your poisons."

"It is precisely because I am the Lord's potions master that I inquire you ridiculous oaf. If he is absent due to some malady then it is my duty to serve him in any capacity that I may. Be it a draught for a headache or a simple solution for a cold."

He heard a barking laugh from lower down the table. One of Greyback's lot. "It's funny," the man said in his defense, looking around at the severe faces glaring at him. "You know," he said, indicating his face. Most particularly his nose.

Bellatrix was lightning fast in her reflexes, snapping off a crucio the moment her wand had appeared. The spell rolling out the tip as the word rolled off her tongue. Greyback, for his part, deflected it for his underling.

"Oye, not at the table. Here, we're all the same. Hoity toity witches and mangy mutts. We all serve the Dark Lord."

"Some better than others," Snape muttered to himself, hiding his mouth behind his glass as he took a sip of water. Bellatrix was about to make a second attempt, this time on Snape himself when she had been stopped by her husband's brother.

"He was here, potions master," Greyback said from down the table. "But left without word before you came. Might be a headache, like you said. That or the roast peacock didn't sit well with his appetite."

Snape forced a small smile. "Of course," he said as he lay his fork and knife across the untouched meal. "I have matters I must attend. Excuse me."

"Going to run back to your school master, Severus?" Bellatrix taunted.

"As a matter of fact, I am returning to the work for which I am kept nearby. Unless you would like to go the month without your 'herbal soothers' you're so very fond of, I suggest you remain in my good graces. Even an expert such as myself may experience a momentary lapse of memory and add just a drop too much of someone's poison of choice."

"Is that a threat?"

"What is it like in your tiny little brain?" he asked. "I often wonder if you would drown while turning your face to the sky in the rain." He stood, the chair scraping the marble floor behind him as he pushed it back with his body. He turned his back to her then and began to walk away.

She stood, throwing her husband's arm away from her when he tried to stop her a second time. She screamed her favorite curse, but Snape turned, deflected it and cast one of his own. "Sectumsempra!" He did, much against his better judgment, aim for non vital parts of her body. Places that would heal on their own in time. His face was cold. Expressionless as he spoke. "That, Bellatrix, is why the Dark Lord requested I come into his employ. You are his plaything to pass the time. I am his servant. Occasionally, I am tasked to remove the refuse from his table."

He turned his back once more on the whole of them, knowing that Grayback's gaze followed his every step as he left the room.

 

_**o0o** _

 

Harry and Ron woke to find Draco and Tobias standing over them in the practice room. Harry blinked up at them as Ron tried to roll over and burrow his face into his arm.

"We need the space," Toby said flatly. "Get up and crash in the common room if you must." He bent over and grabbed Ron by the back of his shirt collar, lifting him up off the ground seemingly effortlessly. Ron shouted, kicking the air while reaching for the part of his shirt collar that had caught the front of his neck. Tobias put him back down, and Ron swore at him indignantly as he rubbed at his throat.

"Do not make me tell you again. I'll deal with you later. Join the girl for breakfast.... Er.... well, more like lunch. Get out of my sight."

"Alright, alright."

Once Ron had left, Toby locked the door behind him. Harry had gotten to his feet during the exchange and Draco kept his distance. "Stop bloody dithering about and sit your arses down." When neither boy did as they were told, he growled. With his wand and his other hand, he used his magic to yank them forward and shove them down into the chairs he wanted them to sit in. Then, he summoned the stool Ron had been perched on immediately before the fight with Harry.

"I've been talking at great length with miss Granger, after she had been able to get some proper rest."

"Black, are you drunk?" Draco said, noticing a slight slur to his words.

"Yes. It's the only damned way I can sanely deal with the pair of you and not want to strangle your scrawny necks for being complete idiots." He pinched between his eyebrows, regretting that he had drunk nearly the entire bottle already. "Look. The point is you two have been through one hell of a strange situation and I haven't exactly been very forthcoming with explanations. I thought at least Draco was smart enough to pick up on things, but it turns out he's just as thick. Just a wee smidge more sensible. So let's go through this piece by piece because it's Christmas Eve, boys. Tomorrow, we come out of the hidey holes and make peace with the rest of the damned Order."

"But you said Dumbledore-"

"I've got a deal worked out with him. Which you idgits would have known had you not gone off and tried to ransack Weasley's mind like that!" he barked back, silencing Draco. He turned his wild silver eyes to Harry. "Anything to add?"

"It was Draco's idea," he said, causing the other boy to turn to glare at him.

"I don't care who's idea it was at this point. You were both stupid to do it. But what's done is done. Tomorrow, Harry's team and Dumbledore's team are going to shake hands and start playing nice. We can sort through the power plays later."

After another two hours straight of lecturing them on how incredibly stupid and idiotic they had been, Tobias finally ran out of steam on that argument and went straight into the heart of the matter at hand.

"Power blocks. Barriers. You broke the last one Dumbledore put on you last night, if what Granger has told me is true. And as for you," he turned his full attention to Draco. "You shredded the ones your father placed on you far sooner than I had expected. Welcome to the world of being a creature. I'd give you a t-shirt and a cute little button, but we're at war so it'll have to wait."

Harry leaned into Tobias's line of sight. "Question."

"What now, Potter?"

"Are we ever going to be allowed to get something to eat?"

 

_**o0o** _

 

Ginny had been awoken suddenly, with the obnoxious laughter of Peeves her only warning of what was to come. Filch had found her sleeping under a desk in a disused classroom. Her wand, and the map had been taken from her as she was half led, half dragged through the castle.

And now, her heart threatened to escape her chest as she sat in the office of Headmaster Dumbledore. She'd been so careful. So cautious not to get caught. Having most of the students away from the school allowed her to look around and investigate easier. Trying to find Harry. Trying to root out the imposters. Trying to clear her name.

If not for the school's pet squib.

She sat staring at her hands as she tried to think of what she would tell her parents. Surely they could be contacted and notified of her immediate suspension. She didn't think she could bear her father's disappointment. Her mother's righteous wrath.

Just as she tried to piece together what she would do with her life after being expelled, the Headmaster arrived. She looked up when she felt his hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Miss Weasley," he said. "Would you like a lemon sherbert?"

"N.. No sir," she said, holding back her tears.

"Tea?"

She shook her head. She knew about his tea. She never trusted drinks from others. Except, of course her family. Hermione. Harry... Just thinking his name now made her feel like flying in a panic to find him. She squashed it down. "No thank you, sir," she said, trying to maintain calmness in her voice.

He gave a small smile, patted her shoulder, and moved to sit down behind his desk. Filch hovered at the edges of the room, and gave his customary resentful grumble when he was dismissed.

Once alone, naught even accompanied by the headmaster's phoenix companion, Dumbledore picked up her wand and examined it closely before shaking his head with a sigh and setting it down beside the confiscated map.

"I can explain-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Miss Weasley, are you aware of the trouble you have caused this school?"

"It wasn't me. Not all of it."

"So you did not openly attack your fellow students?"

She was silent, trying to keep from looking him in the eye.

"And you did not incite your entire house to go, what did I hear it called... Snake Hunting?"

"That was taken entirely out of context," she snapped, then added, "Sir."

"Miss Weasley," he said, opening the map before him with the tip of his wand. It had been a clever work of ingenuity. "Are you aware that this map is but one of four? Each map is incomplete, and will only show the entire picture when placed together." He spoke the charm that would reveal the true map rather than the charmed, snot-nosed little message the former students of his had imbued the parchment with. He'd seen Harry do it enough times to know how to do it right.

"Ah, see. Here we are, in my office. Professor Lupin is in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey and..." His small smile became a deepening frown. "That's not right..." he said, then turned his attention to Ginny again. "You know this map does not lie."

She nodded. "Even if you're not you, it shows who's who," she replied, echoing the explanation Ron had given her when she had asked after the map the year before.

Dumbledore closed the map and after coming back around his desk he returned her wand to her. "We do not have time to waste, Miss Weasley," he said. "Fetch as many of the professors as you can find and have them meet me in the third floor corridor. The one with the trap door. They will know what I mean."

She jumped to her feet and made for the door ahead of him, but he called out to her, causing her to stop. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore?" she asked.

He smiled broadly. "Happy Christmas."

 

_**o0o** _

 

The three of them joined Ron and Hermione just as the pair were finishing their meal.

"The house elves really outdid themselves this morning," Hermione had said.

"That's because it's Christmas Eve," was Tobias's reply as he added copious amounts of sugar to his tea. The four teenagers looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh, didn't I tell you?"

"No, you were too busy barking at everyone," Ron replied. "Anyone going to eat that?" he asked, eying the last slices of bacon on the platter in the center of the coffee table. When no one responded, he took what was left for himself.

"Christmas..." Draco mumbled. "It feels like we've been stuck between the walls forever. And yet it's only been a few months."

Harry agreed. "There's no windows. And we hardly leave. It is hard to judge if it is even day or night anymore."

Tobias was quiet as he listened to the teens talk back and forth about their situation. About the holiday. About how much trouble Ron was going to be in with his mother. Hermione's spiraling academic career. And Quidditch. When conversation came to a natural state of comfortable silence, Tobias finally spoke again. He was on his fourth cup of tea, and had been thinking back on the last truly happy Christmas he'd had. And about the large family feasts at the Manor. The quiet mornings back in Baker Street with his brothers and sister. The last Christmas with both his parents seemed so very far away. Far in his past, and farther still in his future.

It was all of these things that weighed on his mind when he spoke, and lent a sincerity to his words that he normally had reserved for his wife and own children. "Things right now... they're bleak. We're in the middle of a war that never really went away. Even though we fight on the side that is good and true, it does not mean we are always right. We've learned this year that things don't always go as planned. That even great, good men, are capable of terrible evils. But one thing is clear to me, more than any other. To survive this war, we have to at least give off the appearance of a unified force. While Harry may be the Chosen One, he's only one man. He needs the rest of us to stand together. That's what the other factions fail to realize. Neville and Luna's branch of Dumbledore's Army splintered off to work with the few decent Slytherins left, while Ron's faction openly attacked them as traitors to Harry. Meanwhile the Order's split in two because of Draco and myself. Order members are openly opposing Dumbledore now, and there's been rumours of creating another splinter group to take on the Death Eaters themselves now that Harry's no longer under the headmaster's control.

"All sides fail to realize that we cannot rely on Harry alone to save us. To lead us, yes, but not to save us." He set his cup down on the table and stood, looking down at each teen one by one. His moving gaze stopped on Ron, and he looked the stubborn boy straight in the eye. "We have to learn to work together. It's like a game of Quidditch. Harry and Riddle are the seekers. When they fight, it's game over. Our job is to stop the other team from scoring points, while securing a strong lead for ourselves. It's possible to still win a match if the opposing team gets the snitch. Difficult, without a doubt. But not impossible. Just highly improbable."


	31. 30. Spem Renovavit

 

After their hunger sated and bellies were full, Tobias took his leave of the young men and woman. Leaving them to their thoughts before the warm fire. He had gone to his personal chamber to be alone with his emotions.. While his father Sherlock had taught him to sit in perfect stillness in order to organize his racing thoughts it was his muggle parent that taught him how to constructively work through his conflicting emotions.

He cleaned, the muggle way, his chambers. Using scalding hot water from the tap in his washroom to scrub the table where he performed the delicate work of potions mastery. He got on his hands and knees, scrubbing the stone floor of the dirt and grime after sweeping up the reddish wolf hair from past transformations.

He scrubbed, pushing a combination of melancholy and elbow grease into every nook and cranny of his chambers.

After some hours there came a knock upon is door. Three quick taps in succession. He had just finished scrubbing down his shelves and had been wiping them with a soft towel to dry them. With a subtle twitch of his wrist and a wave of one finger the locks on the door clicked and the ancient wooden door opened. He sniffed, but still could not catch his visitor's scent. He felt the magic, and knew who stepped quietly into his chambers now.

"Weasley," he said solemnly.

"Apprentice Black."

Toby kept his back turned to the boy as he set to task returning his personal items to his shelves. Obscure books on potion lore he had borrowed from Snape. Some of the more fire damaged texts from the Potter cottage.

Clearing the small table beside his shelves of books he now turned to his work table for the smaller, more delicate keepsakes. There he found Ron holding a framed picture, one of quite a few. All held within them pictures of varied sizes and detail. All of them drawn on parchment in a similar style. He let Ron continue looking at the one in his hands as he picked two up from the table, moving to his shelves to place them. The smiling faces of his brothers and sister, as close as he could remember them, looked back at him in their monochrome glory.

Ron looked down at the picture in his hands. Though the images did not move as he had been accustomed to, the attention to detail would, he felt, make even Hermione jealous. "Did you draw these?" he asked.

Silently Tobias nodded as he continued putting everything in it's rightful place.

"They're really good."

"They are all I have left of my family. I could bring nothing with me when I left home."

Finally, Ron set the picture he had been looking at down. Two strangely clothed men looked back up at him. One smiling broadly while the other, topped with hair drawn in wild, unruly and heavy strokes, seemed to stare right through him. Though it was simply a drawing, Ron couldn't help but get the creeps from such an austere stare. "I've been talking with the others," Ron said as he at last addressed why he'd come to speak with him.

"Yes. People do that when there are more than one in a single location." Tobias straightened a small, ornate silver frame holding a woman and boy within before using a summoning charm to retrieve the final picture, the one Ron had been so enthralled by. He carefully arranged it, fingertips gently sliding down the glass at their faces before at last he gave Ron his full attention.

The silver stare that hit him now caused his words to stick in his throat. Far more intense than the drawing he had been looking at before. He could see now a closer family resemblance to the drawing, but also to Draco. "I-"

"Spit it out, Weasley."

"Thank you."

"You are important to Potter. Therefore, I must assist you when I am able."

"No, I mean- well-" he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. "They said, well, Harry and Malfoy, that you were furious with them when you came back. For doing what they did. You didn't have to... for what I've done you could have just let me..."

"You are important to Potter," he repeated. "I would not be a good servant to my house if I did not step in and ensure things did not become worse. If Potter lost you, it would be like losing part of himself. I could not allow that." His explanation was simple. Straightforward. But Ron, while not the best student he'd readily admit, was good at reading people. Their actions, their expressions. When his mind wasn't clouded as it had been before, he was bright where it most counted.

He knew, by watching the werewolf, there was more to it than that. Much more. But he simply could not pin it down as to what it was. "You actually care about what happens to me."

Tobias waved it off. "Insomuch as how it will affect Potter and my mission to keep both him and Draco safe." Tobias moved to his potions cabinet and selected a tall bottle. He transfigured two empty potion bottles into small mugs and indicated for Ron to sit down at his table. "Please," he insisted when Ron refused to sit. "You are a guest in my privy chamber. I must insist you make yourself comfortable. You did not come to me for idle talk of your friends and my tragic past. You're here to ask me for help."

"How-"

"Because like you I study the human condition and read people's bodies and faces. I would offer you tea, as is customary in this situation but all I have is this." He held up the bottle.

"Firewhisky?"

"No. I drank most of that this morning. Mulled wine. Charmed to keep it warm." He poured them each half a mug full before offering one to Ron. The boy took it, holding it between his hands as he finally sat down. Tobias turned his back to his table, mug in hand. He raised it slightly in offering of toast before taking a sip. Once Tobias had sipped, Ron did the same. It tasted of orange and lemon. Cinnamon and strong clove. Sweet - almost too sweet. Even for him. He took another sip as the warmth traveled down into his belly, from which it radiated into the rest of him. It was cozy and comfortable - like home. It reminded him of his mom then.

After Toby took another sip, he set his mug on the table beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. There was a reason his parents often offered their clients a cup of tea when they would bring their cases to the detective and his doctor. If declined they were jittery, their worry and anxiety overriding rational thought. If they accepted, it left them open to observation. Each unguarded sip spilled part of the story as the tea spilled into their mouths. A silent tapestry he and his brother Hamish had learned to admire and employ in their own exploits and adventures.

Ron needed help. He didn't trust the werewolf Draco had brought with him to Grimmauld. He trusted Draco even less. He didn't trust, but was in his debt. He sought out further help, his options limited and informed by what his two best friends had told him of their discoveries together in the space between the walls. So Ron's gratitude, while genuine, was mostly expressed to get on his good side as he asked for aid. For someone close to him - Ron would never ask for help for himself. He was too proud. No, it was one of his friends or family.

Without having to deduce who, as it was fairly obvious the only other Weasley in the school was... "You're worried that what has been done to you has also been done to your sister Ginny. That whatever sickness had taken hold of you, it also has it's claws in her. You think that if we can get here here, into this space where we are hiding then we might save her as we have saved Harry and yourself."

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Tobias quickly continued. "She does not exhibit the same signs of addiction and dependence that you and Harry had. She... has not been herself for quite some time, yes? Since Harry disappeared. Obsessed. Vengeful."

"How did you-"

"I have eyes and ears all over this castle. That and the paintings have told me from time to time what's been going on outside. The attacks on students were never your sister's idea. They were Pansy Parkinson's."

"What?!"

"Polyjuice to get close to you in Harry's absence. That is my working hypothesis at any rate. Based on the evidence that now sits charred and burned in the shrieking shack, someone found out what your sister has truly been up to and has done everything in their power to make the situation worse for her."

He moved to a drawer and pulled out a small book he had placed there shortly after he had returned to the hidden rooms. Casting a quick enlargement spell over it, he waited for it to reach it's true size before turning to hold it out to Ron. "Recognize this?"

Ron snatched it up and thumbed through it quickly. "Harry's potions book! Where-"

"Pansy needed this. The book was originally intended for Draco but when I took him from the Dark Lord's grasp, his mission then fell to Pansy. In that book are scribbled original recipes by a former student here. That book is steeped in dark magic, and has many deadly poisons. What better way to hide your weapons in a school than in your school book. However..."

"Harry and I fought over the new one and he got the old ratty one. This one." He thought a moment to the first day of classes. "But wait. Pansy wasn't in class that day."

Tobias smiled, and it put Ron ill at ease to see those slightly unsettling canine teeth of his. "No, she wasn't. Some sort of scheduling problem. Professor Slughorn's assistant accidentally misplaced the revised schedules for some of the Slytherin students." He picked up his mug and took a small sip, feigning innocence. "Oops."

"You did that on purpose to make sure Harry or I got this book."

He nodded.

"But how did you know about it? I don't think the Death Eaters were all that happy to talk about their big evil plans in front of the hired help."

"You're right. But then again when beings like me are in our other form, we aren't exactly known for our intelligence. They speak freely in front of the werewolves when we're actually wolves. Without the book, Parkinson had to attempt her murders the old fashioned way. With hexes and curses. When Harry disappeared, the book came into your possession. And obviously Ginny had access to the book from you.

"That's why Parkinson used polyjuice to become your sister."

"But.... If that's true, then where's my sister?!"

"Still around. She loves Harry, in her own way. She wouldn't abandon him outright. You want me to find her, but she's smarter than you think. We will probably see her tomorrow evening at the Christmas feast. I'm sure the headmaster's had his hands full today."

_**o0o** _

 

No sooner had Tobias spoken of the troubles Dumbledore had likely been dealing with did four students change in appearance in the infirmary. The Ravenclaw students whom had been attacked were waking groggily with students that did not match their uniforms. Likewise Crabbe and Goyle woke to find themselves secured to their cots, wearing Hufflepuff uniforms far too tight and small for their larger bodies.

"I suspected as much," Madame Pomfrey tutted from the end of the large room lined with cots, a tray of foul tasting potions balanced skillfully on one hand and her wand clasped tightly in the other. "Let's see what other poisons you lot have been illegally ingesting, shall we."

Across the castle Ginny had brought as many professors as she could find, even having stopped by the infirmary with instructions from the headmaster when she had also been sent to collect former professor Lupin.

Once gathered in the third floor hallway, as Dumbledore had directed Ginny to tell them, he quieted the gathered professors - noting the absence of a few. Including...

"Where is Minerva?"

"I thought she would be with you, Professor," Ginny said.

It was then they heard Filch's hollering through the castle as he approached them, pulling professor McGonogall roughly by the arm with him. "I caught this one sneaking about the seventh floor."

Professor McGonogall yanked her arm from him, smoothed out her robes, and had been about to reprimand the old squib when she found she could not speak.

"I think you will find, Miss Parkinson, that your glamours will not work here. You see... this particular hallway once housed a rather large pet, and so the enchantments here were made very strong. If one were to arrive here under false pretense, they would quickly find themselves to be tongue tied."

He offered the map to Lupin, causing the man's eyes to widen. The last he saw of the map had been Harry's third year, when he'd been sacked from his teaching position. "You will find our dear friend Minerva in the dungeons. I believe you know how to use this?"

Lupin snatched the map from him, looking it over quickly. "Miss Weasley will accompany you," Dumbledore said with a glint in his usually joyful eyes. "You may find her quick reflexes useful if you stumble across a viper nest."

Ginny began to protest, but at Dumbledore's nod, he pulled Ginny with him out of the opposite end of the hallway. She looked back over her shoulder before they passed through the doorway. Even from this distance, she recognized the bottle Professor Slughorn passed to the headmaster - for she knew it all to well from the year spent under the pink toad. Veritas Serum.

_**o0o** _

 

Ron came out of the rooms to three expectant faces. He'd been in there a rather long while, and when he had come back out from behind the tapestry he was noticeably... better. Not happy, exactly. But Hermione could clearly sense relief coming off him.

"What happened?"

"My sister's not an evil bint."

Hermione jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around her friend when he came near. "I'm so relieved!"

He nodded as he pulled himself away from Hermione awkwardly, choosing to sit in a chair rather than on the sofa beside her where she had been sitting all this time. "She's not so innocent either. But she's not the one going around attacking people."

"I doubt that," Draco scoffed, causing the others to give him a puzzled look. Quickly realizing he'd spoken his thought aloud, he smirked. "I'm a Malfoy. I always distrust the family of gingers. It's in my nature. Just as it's in yours to distrust me, Weasley."

"Well," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "At least you didn't call him Weasel."

"Oi Ferret face," Ron snapped. "The important thing here is that my sister's not being controlled by anyone. That's cause enough to celebrate!" He was smiling, despite Malfoy's attempt to bring him down. Then, he remembered. "Harry, he's got your book mate. Turns out Pansy Parkinson's been trying to get her nasty mitts on it because it's filled with a bunch of dark magic. She's supposed to try and kill the headmaster and Ferret face over here with it. But Black found out and screwed it up so you or me would get it."

He shrugged when Harry pressed him for more details. "Oh, Mione. He said to send you in after I came out. Said there was something you wanted to say earlier but didn't ask about."

"I... I'll ask him later. It's... Really, it's a delicate matter."

"C'mon, just go now and get it over with."

"A VERY delicate matter, Ronald," she snapped defensively.

He waved her off. "Alright, sheesh. You say that like it's one of them girlie things. I have a sister, you know. And a mother. I know what that's about."

"RONALD!" Hermione exclaimed angrily, her cheeks flushed as she rose from her seat on the sofa. She turned, raising her hand to slap him, but stopped herself and looked briefly to Harry and Draco. Her cheeks turning brighter by the second as she rushed from the room... and behind the tapestry they noted.

Once she had slammed the door behind her, Ron scooted to the edge of his seat, staring Draco down. "So," he said, giving him a stern stare. He tried to imitate Black's serious stare, but failed miserably. Now that Draco new Ron was just a sentimental softy, he wasn't so intimidating. "Your patronus is a stag. Like Harry's."

"Ron-"

"No no. See, I know what that means. Mom and Tonks were talking about her patronus changing into a wolf now. Because she's in love with Remus Lupin."

"Ron, it's not-"

"Let's hear him out, Potter," Draco challenged. "What are you going to do, Weasley? Break my legs?"

"If you break his heart, you won't have any legs left to break."

"Ron!"

"Harry, you're my best mate. My only real, honest mate aside from 'Mione really. But come on. You never got that jealous or angry over my sister, or even with Cho. I haven't taken a beating like that since I insulted Angelina."

"George beat you up?"

"Fred," he replied.

Draco glared at him. "If you're insinuating that I have feelings for Potter, I may have to turn you into something very unnatural."

"Oh come off it, Malfoy. You've been obsessed with Harry since day one and he picked me over you. Now that I've got a clearer head than before I don't know how anyone missed it really. Especially the two of you."

"We are not-" both boys started, and at the sound of the other's protest they both abruptly stopped and shut their mouths.

"Guys, we all know boys pick on the girls they like because we're all idiots who don't know how to tell 'em they're pretty. You two are always fighting and obsessing about what the other one is doing. I don't like this," he said, gesturing to the pair of them. "Whatever this is. But Harry's my friend. My brother. You hurt him, I'll hunt you down and you'd wish Voldemort himself had found you first. There is no hole or cave deep enough or place far enough where I won't find you and skin you like the ferret you are."

"Ron, I'm not- You can't just-"

Draco was angry, but he held it behind his usual mask. Harry could tell he was fuming. Draco calmly extended his hand, the one with the scar from their blood ward ritual where Draco renounced his claim on Sirius Black's inheritance. Ron stared at it, and accepted it before wincing as Draco tightened his grip, digging his nails into Ron's hand. "You threaten me like that again, Weasley, and Harry's hurt feelings will be the least of your worries." He released Ron's hand and stood, taking leave of the both of them and stalking off to his chamber. The door slammed behind him and they heard the heavy bolt of the lock click into place.

Harry whirled on Ron in anger. "What was that about, Ron! What the hell was that about!"

"I told you. If his patronus is anything to go by he's madly in love with you. I was just giving him the talk my brothers get whenever they start courting a girl."

"So you're treating me like your sister!?"

"No. I'm trying to be the sensible one here. He's been nothing but a thorn in our sides since we started school. He knows, and we know, he can't physically hurt you Harry. Not since he made his wizard oath to serve you instead of the Order. But that doesn't mean he can't hurt you where it really matters. You always try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But I can't trust him and probably never will. I want him to know that if he's planning some other way to hurt you, then he won't get away with it."

_**o0o** _

 

Ginny and Lupin searched the dungeons. They searched the lower dungeons where students nor staff ever went save for Filch in search of errant children who sought a little extra privacy in their most... awkward years together.

"She's here, on the map, but we can't find a way into where she's been hidden," Lupin was frustrated. He knew one of the other three Marauder's Maps had the complete lower dungeons on it. Pettigrew's map. He was the rat, after all. And rats loved dark, rank places.

"Maybe... Maybe we're not thinking this through," she said. She took the map and turned it to it's side and studied it a moment. She turned to face the way they had come, and noted on the map how it did not line up with the picture before her. So she turned the map at an angle and tried to remember their route to where they were now. "Pretend that we are in the dark ages, and we are very powerful wizard and witch. If we had extremely dangerous criminals that can never be let out, where would you put them?"

"The regular dungeons were probably used for storage, extra bunks for troops, secure lockup of relics, and small time criminals... Logically you would put the worst criminals in the lower dungeon."

"Now, imagine if one of the criminals escaped his cell. How would you keep that criminal from reaching the rest of the castle? Remember, we are magical folk. We can assume that the criminals also have magic."

"Doors and gates barring the way would only slow them down as they worked out the enchantments and locks. You would need to set up traps for them, triggered as each door is passed would be the easiest way to implement them," Lupin surmised. Then, he pieced it together. "If you can disorientate the prisoner long enough, they may accidentally wander back to their cell. Guards would need to know the counter curses and charms in order to get through the traps to feed and check on them. But they would have to be wordless, unspoken so that the prisoners didn't overhear."

"And the stair cases move because if the castle is overrun by an attacking army they will become disoriented and possibly lost. Going around in circles. If we can figure out the pattern of the hallways, and what happens at each doorway, we'll be able to reach the center of this maze and get Professor McGonogall back out!"

_**o0o** _

 

Pansy had been stripped of her glamour. Her polyjuice had worn off. And she fought against the potion that coursed through her veins. It was much stronger than those she had been subjected to in her training under the Death Eaters. Stronger than anything made by Snape's hand.

Then again, Snape was likely taught by the man who had given it to the Headmaster in the first place. After the grand reveal, Dumbledore, with the help of Filch and two other professors, had taken her to a nearby disused classroom. The remaining staff, uncomfortable with what they knew was about to take place, busied themselves with anything but thinking on what Dumbledore may be doing to a student behind closed doors.

They understood that this was a time of war, of sacrifice. But it didn't mean they agreed with him and his methods. Especially when it came to the children.

Pansy was seated, tied to a sturdy wooden chair. Her wand stripped from her, only to find it was not her wand at all - it had been Minerva's. The only item she could not replicate with her spells and her potions.

"You'll pay for this, old man!" Pansy screamed as the potion burned through her. With each lie that rolled off her tongue, the pain became more intense. "You can kill me - but when I die two more will take my place. And two more for each. Until we are an army to rise up against you!"

"Kill you? My dear child, why would I kill you? You are a student. A child. A misguided child, but still a child nonetheless. I cannot, however, say the same for our dear Mr. Filch."

The squib nearly cried in delight as Dumbledore pointed his wand to the ceiling. Down from the air, from nothingness, dropped chains boasting metal cuffs at the ends.

"Headmaster..." the other staff who had helped him get her into the room started to protest. With a single utterance they stopped. Pansy looked around, seeing the empty expressions on their faces, save for the dirty old groundskeeper.

"Filch, send for me when she is willing to talk," he said, and with a snap of his fingers the staff members were moving, silently, vacantly untying her and restraining her as Filch lowered the chains with a crank on a nearby wall.

Pansy screamed in protest as Dumbledore left the room, closing the door behind him. He whistled as he walked, satisfied that the muffling charms on the room were working beautifully.

He stopped by a window for a moment, watching as the first snow of the season began to fall. "Ah," he said, smiling. "A nice white Christmas after all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My kid started school at the end of February, and due to scheduling issues I've not been able to work on writing or anything really. He's off for the summer, so it's still hard to get writing done. This story is STILL GOING. I know it's a long time between updates and this story was started in freaking 2014. But I've not given up on it.


	32. 31. Sanguinem Vincula

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before letting you delve into this unexpectedly quickly updated chapter I would like to give proper credit for a concept and idea to [**psychicdreams**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreams/pseuds/psychicdreams). Had it not been for a plot device of theirs in the Merlin story [_The Bonds That Can't Be Broken_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7954603/chapters/18192106) I never would have figured out how to handle some key plot points with Harry and Draco on my own, as all angles regarding side effects of the Dreamscape ritual that I would come up with had been serious roadblocks. That story showed me a similar approach to one I had thought of but at the time did not like. It's a very lovely story, and I encourage everyone who likes King Arthur/Merlin stories to go read it (after you read this chapter of course).
> 
> So please, go on over and give that story a read, comment, and kudos.

 

Hermione had spent two hours with Tobias in his chamber. Ron had moved on to other things. Curiosity had led him to snooping through the training room. Scrolls and parchments. Books and diagrams. Harry had attempted to coax Draco from his rooms with no success.

It was Hermione, when she had at last come out from behind the tapestry, who gained access to Draco. Insisting that they needed to have a very serious discussion regarding Harry and Ron. She blocked Harry's attempt to join them when he met her at Draco's door.

"Delicate matter," she insisted, pointing him back towards the chairs.

She waited for him to sit down dejectedly before going inside after the door had unlocked. Once inside, she found Draco sitting at a table similar to the one in his mentor's room. "If you're going to apologize for your oaf of a friend, don't bother."

"It's not that," she said. "What we did to Ron. What you and Black did to Harry. We need to talk about that."

"No, we don't. Trust me no good will come of it."

She looked around for another chair but found none. The enchantments on the objects in the room that had made so many seats seemed to have worn off. So she sat on the bed among the tattered curtains and the shredded bedding. "We need to talk about how it is affecting us, not about the things we saw."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, drawing a deep breath with his eyes closed. "There is nothing to talk about. I am fine."

"How have you been sleeping?"

"I haven't."

"Neither have I."

"Different reasons," Draco replied quickly. "I'm having nightmares of the Dark Lord in my home and ordering my mother's rape and torture daily. I doubt you can empathize with that."

"So you've not been finding yourself walking through his memories every time you close your eyes to sleep?"

Draco's heart skipped a beat. He lowered his hand and opened his eyes, frowning. He did not respond as she continued.

"When Harry was fighting Ron this morning, it felt like Harry was hitting me, too. I'm still sore, but not anything near what the two of them were feeling. It's become a dull ache, but it's still there. I think something may have gone wrong, but Black assures me that this will pass."

Draco had undergone it before her. Had been feeling the after effects of the magic longer than she. It was true that he did not sleep well. That he often found himself on the train in Harry's mind - visiting the memories he had access to. Dodging the black mist that was the Dark Lord's influence on Harry. Had fought it more than once in the land of sleep - a fight that often left him even more tired, but allowed Harry to wake the following day brighter. More refreshed. When Harry feels his enemy attempting to gain access to his mind - the curse scar seizures, headaches, and pain - Draco has felt it to a lesser degree.

"It has not passed."

"Has it weakened?"

"Some," he replied. "Some."

She nodded as she bit her lip in thought. Her cheeks turning just a bit pink as she thought how to approach the next topic... "So other than nightmares-"

"If that will be all Granger," he said abruptly as he rose from his seat, refusing to look at her lest the cracks in his mask betray his thoughts. "I need to clean up from my impromptu transformation. As you can see my chamber is in disarray and in need of a thorough cleaning and repair."

"But Draco-"

"No. I've already had the Weasel jump down my throat today, I'll not have you join him there as well," he snapped, and busied himself with the pointless task of straightening his table.

_**o0o** _

 

They had braved the maze. In addition to the moving hallways they had discovered trap doors, falling floors, walls that closed in the deeper down corridors you went. A bottomless pit. Walls of magical fire. An ancient sewer, and finally a catacomb before reaching, at last, the chamber in which Professor McGonogall had been hidden away.

Ginny watched his back, in case of attack as he broke the spells on the door. "How anyone could have gotten through all of that once let alone twice is beyond me," Ginny said to Lupin's back as he got to his knees to pick the lock on the door once all of the spells had been undone. The lock itself had been magic resistant. "Whomever this cell was originally intended for, they must have been a rather nasty sort."

The door opened and Lupin stepped in to discover... nothing. It was empty save two sconces across the room that came to life once the door opened.

There, in his resplendent green and silver, stared Salazar Slytherin, and the portrait was not at all surprised to see them. Almost as if he had been expecting them for some time.

"You must be the little girl Weasel."

The portrait was far younger than Lupin had ever seen of the man. Painted when the ancient wizard was in his prime. He looked... fairer than any other depiction he had seen in text books as a child. But the severe ash colored eyes stared at him, then moved back to Ginny as she corrected him that her name was "Weasley."

"Where is Minerva!" Lupin demanded once the shock that their journey had been for naught wore off.

"Congratulations on passing my trials," the portrait said instead with a cruel smile on it's thin lips. "Much faster than the other children. Did you like the maze? That was Rowena’s specialty. Much more inventive than Godric's wall of holy fire. I had always admired Helga's work on the floors. An indoor bog - who could have imagined."

"Where is she!" Lupin demanded, pulling his wand on the portrait.

"The cat woman, yes? She is quite safe behind you. Poor thing has been stuck like that for months. I've kept an eye on her."

Ginny and Lupin turned as one and saw there the petrified cat in the corner. "But that basilisk!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Dead. Yes," Slytherin's young portrait stated calmly. "There are more than basilisk that may petrify ginger child. You'll find it's easy to cure her. She may be very hungry when she's returned to normal."

"What is the counter curse?" Lupin asked, picking up his old friend. She was heavier than she looked, so it took both arms to carry her rather than under one.

The portrait shrugged. "That I do not know. She was brought to me in this state. However, unlike the ones who brought her here, you may take the shorter path back out if you like." With that the portrait swung open to reveal a long, dark, steep staircase leading upward with no end in sight. "This will take you up into Helga's Room of Requirement. From there I am sure you will be able to sort yourselves out."

_**o0o** _

 

Snape had evaded many questions asked of him, as well as the eyes of Bellatrix with ease. He had used the passages Lucius had once shown him, before this war had returned to the world, to spirit himself away at every opportunity.

Now, he emerged from a secret passage that linked to Narcissa Malfoy's prisoner chambers. Not quite a cell, but not a full suite of rooms either. A single room, with no windows. Earthen floor and a thin cot in the corner. Filthy and torn. The woman was allowed food and water daily. Just enough food to keep her alive as a bargaining tool. The water just enough to drink or bathe - never both.

For the Dark Lord's pets preferred certain parts to be cleaned before they used her. Not wanting to catch scent of another male that had come to use her for their release.

He knew he could not take her from this place - for she had the mark of the Dark Lord on her arm. They would find her, and her punishment would be far worse.

Instead... he came to offer her choice - as he sometimes did. It was the only kindness he could do her now. The only control she had left in her life.

"Severus," she had whispered, her swollen, bruise blotched face turned to him as her cracked and bleeding lips parted to speak. "Leave me."

He sat beside her cot, reaching out his hand to try and offer any comfort he may be able.

"I have betrayed them. The Dark Lord knows how they escaped. He knows who..."

"Draco already has forgiven you."

"He lives?"

Snape nodded. "He lives." He reached into his robes, retrieving a numbing salve. Opening the small pot he dipped his fingers in and placed his hand back upon her, now slipping it beneath her tattered prison gown. He worked the salve into her flesh. Slowly, methodically. To ease her physical pain even a little.

"Your cousin watches over him. Teaches him. He hopes to break the chains your husband placed upon his magic."

"But the Black curse... the madness... he cannot-"

"Black is teaching him. Such raw power tempered with kindness and love for the boy. But reckless with his youth," he said softly. "Challenging the headmaster at every turn. One of the most powerful wizards in the world... and he stupidly opposes his every move."

"He is much older than he looks, Severus," she said weakly. It took much effort to keep her eyes open. "Older than either of us. Half a century and not a wrinkle of age."

"I very much doubt that," he replied as he stopped his healing hand and reached back into his robes for another bottle. "How long ago did they..."

"I have missed three moons," she said. "They come now in human form so as not to harm Fenrir's..."

He nodded and selected a different bottle. "You will feel much pain, and you will be punished severely for it."

"They won't let me die, Severus. Every time... every time I am ripped back from the veil." She sobbed quietly as she lay on her stomach. Closing her eyes tightly to keep from letting what few tears she had left leave her. Those... those she wished to save for news of her son's death. Though she knew what his future held - knew that Tobias did not lie to her - it would not stop her mother's heart from fearing the worst. It would not stop her nightmares of her son's death and Potter's defeat. "If this one fails, they will try again. And again. Severus, I just..."

He pulled the small black bottle out of his robes and used his teeth to take the cork out. It smelled foul, as all potions did. But this... this was the scent of death itself. "It will not kill you, but it will kill the abomination that grows inside. You will never birth another child after this."

"I only ever wanted the one."

He nodded and leaned closer to her face. He placed a gentle kiss to her swollen cheek and whispered in her ear. "I am sorry, Narcissa, that I cannot do more for you now. After tonight you will not see me again except at the Dark Lord's request."

"Never tell Draco."

He nodded and placed the bottle to her lips, watching as they parted and the thick, black slime oozed into her mouth.

He sat with her that night, waiting for it to take effect. Silencing her screams as her insides rejected the creature that had been planted into her womb by Fenrir Greyback. He restrained her body with his magic as she clawed at her stomach, trying to rip it out of herself as it fought to live against the poison Severus had fed it. When at last she stopped thrashing, he released her restraints. He pushed up his sleeves, tying them back with bits or cord to keep them out of the way as he removed a small bundle from his robes. The advantages to wearing such overly large, flowing garments afforded him ample space to hide his tools of his trade on his person without looking suspect.

The knives were clean, pristine, and very sharp. He had done this before... in the old days of the first war. In the years after as the dark servants of Voldemort had scattered into the countryside - raping the locals and pillaging as they went. As the medi-wizards and witches of St. Mungoes forced the poor women to birth various monsters and losing their lives in the process... some sought to help them survive. And in some instances... it took a strong constitution to ensure such beasts were not brought into this world and the mother's innocent life never forfeit.

He lifted her prison gown, drew a deep breath and lifted his knife to make the first cut. It was going to be a very long night indeed.

_**o0o** _

 

Dumbledore was in his office waiting for news of Pansy Parkinson's eventual break when Lupin and Ginny Weasley burst in. "We found her!" Ginny exclaimed as Lupin set the petrified cat on the headmaster's desk.

"How long has she been like this?"

Lupin and Ginny looked at one another, unsure if they should tell him of what they discovered in the lower dungeons. "We don't know," Remus said at last. "Days? Weeks? Maybe longer. Is there any way to turn her back to normal? This isn't like the Basilisk. Harry killed it from what Miss Weasley says. I don't doubt it."

"I will have Poppy look her over as well as Horace. When Severus returns I will ask for his expertise as our resident dark wizard."

"Have you ever seen something like this before?"

He shook his head. "I know many things, Miss Weasley. But I must confess this is unusual even for myself." He stared at his deputy headmistress, petrified in her animagus form on his desk and stroked his beard in thought. A long, awkward silence passed before Lupin coughed to remind the old wizard they were still there.

"Yes... of course. Miss Weasley, I am sure you are rather tired from your ordeals of late and would like to get a proper rest in your own bed tonight. Remus, you know the way to the tower."

Lupin was thankful to be dismissed, but it was clear Ginny wasn't through yet. He spoke before she could get a single word out of her mouth. "Thank you, Albus. If you'll allow it, I will bunk in the Gryffindor common room tonight... with the plot Miss Weasley has uncovered I think it wise if she is well guarded against those who may wish her ill."

Dumbledore agreed, waving them off. Lupin took Ginny by the arm and hurried her out of the office. Once they were well on their way to the tower he let her go. "Follow me, and keep quiet."

"What-"

"We're just going to do a bit of snooping around. Something doesn't sit well with me about the shrieking shack, and I think you may be able to help me sort it out."

As they turned right down a hallway rather than left, the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw smiled from the shadows before fading into the stonework.

_**o0o** _

 

Draco lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He had used magic to mend his curtains and bedding, but had been unable to fix the bedposts. Magic fire had charred them, and a magical beast had clawed them. Damage no mere cleansing and mending spell could undo.

He fought off sleep. He needed to think. To clear his head. Hermione's attempt to get information from him had stung. It was... humiliating. And Draco Malfoy, heir of the house of Malfoy, would not be humiliated. Especially by a mudblood. He tried to be angry - but even his cold heart had softened where Granger was concerned. But only her. Other muggleborn...

He moaned in despair, turning to his side and hugging his pillow. He knew for muggles so long as they were discrete, so long as they did not speak of such immoral or disgusting things. But in their world, in the world of magic and wizardy and blood - no. He could not succumb to such selfish thoughts and fantasies. He must keep them hidden.

It was easier before. Easier when he could hate them. When he could spout off his father's doctrine. When he was proud and held his head high above his peers. When all he knew of The-Boy-Who-Lived was his name, his face, and that he was the enemy. It was easier when he could hate him. When they fought. He could hide it and bury it deep where it would never be found. But no, he had to go and agree to act as Harry's connection to the world. To keep him from dying before he was supposed to.

He fought sleep for as long as he had been able and found himself back on the train in Harry's mind. Back where he did not wish to be. Working through another tireless nightmare that belonged to another.

_**o0o** _

 

They had taken the usual tunnel past the Whomping Willow to the Shrieking Shack. Ginny had not been back since Harry and Hermione had disappeared. When she had returned... Pansy Parkinson was waiting for her.

Ginny shivered against the cold as she and Lupin made their way through the lower floor. Their common meeting room was a mess of broken furniture. The room beyond, where Harry often waited until the start of the meeting, or where he held his private council... she stroked the arm of the chair where often he would sit writhing in agony as Voldemort invaded his mind, waiting for the pain potions to get into his blood and offer him relief... He broke up with her here, in this very room.

"There has to be a clue here somewhere," he said.

"A clue for what?"

"For what she is really planning. I think Finnegan and I were getting close. We set off a trap upstairs, and now I can't catch a scent on anyone. Or anything. My enhanced senses are dulled. This means that she knows I may be able to detect something that isn't quite right."

"Maybe she was afraid you might smell her and know she wasn't who she appeared."

"I don't think so. If she has been disguised as Minerva for as long as we think then I should have found out by now. No there must be something else. Something only I, or Black, might have picked up on."

"Upstairs you say? Well, we may find our clue there."

_**o0o** _

 

Harry didn't know how long he had been asleep. Only the sensation of quiet. Of stillness...

He was back in the train station where the headmaster had found him at the start of the term. Sitting at the same table. With a cup of hot tea in front of him and a copy of the Daily Prophet.

It was...

He didn't have time to finish that thought when the train came barreling past and a body landed with a thud and a swear outside. Seconds later Draco staggered in, smoking and rubbing at his head to suffocate the smolders he could still feel burning in his hair.

Harry tried not to laugh as Draco yanked out a seat and dropped into the chair across from him.

"What are you doing here?"

"You tell me," Draco snapped in frustration. "I cannot seem to escape this wretched place. And YOU were not on your own train where you were meant to be. I've been jumping onto every single platform it passes and then back on again when it returns around. Looking for YOU."

"But, why though? Shouldn't this be over by now?"

Draco threw his arms into the air, then reached across and stole Harry's tea. He knew it was pointless as none of this were real. But he guzzled it down greedily regardless if only to inconvenience him. Then, he slammed the cup back down on the table between them.

"Thirsty?"

Draco glowered at him, folded his arms, and sat back in his chair. It was going to be another long, arduous night following this berk around. He would wake exhausted, possibly sore from this mental excursion. But he could keep the nightmares and the Dark Lord at bay for Potter for another night.

_**o0o** _

 

Snape transfigured washbasin out of a bottle and cast the water charm into it. He cleaned himself and looked into a mirror he had enlarged so that he could inspect himself after his arduous work. "It never ends..." he said quietly to himself of the sickening task he chose as his own personal penance after the first war. For his part in it, and the deaths that resulted from his own actions.

He looked to Narcissa, sleeping peacefully now for the first time in nearly a year. His eyes shifted from his patient to the bloody bundle on the floor at the foot of the bed. He would never be able to look at his oldest friend's wife again. Would never be able to look her in the eye, lest she give away what he had done to her. Done for her.

Quickly he cleaned up after himself, returning the room to the state he found it in. From his robes he produced a cast iron box, charmed to make it lighter in weight. Lined inside with a foul paste to conceal the true odor of the item he now lay inside. The bundle. The creature he had removed so that Narcissa Malfoy may live. Once secured inside, he shrunk the box and hid it back inside his robes. He hoped the heavy sent of piss and dog shit would cover his own scent enough to hide his visit from any who would come to use her again.

Before slipping from the cell, he stopped to check his patient once again. Not a single scar where he had cut her. No warmth - no discoloration. The healing spells had repaired all but her womb, which lay in shreds in his iron box with the monster it had struggled to contain. It was one body part no living wizard or witch had ever learned to regrow. The secret to life - and only God above it seemed could know how to replenish such a resource.

As he lowered her prison gown to cover her back, to give her some sense of her remaining dignity, he left her. He sealed the passage permanently behind him as he went, ensuring it could never be used again.

Severus Snape greeted Christmas morn with a warm fire at his home in Spinner's End, ensuring the creature and all evidence of it's existence turned to cinders, smoke, and ash.


	33. 32. Veritatem Mendaciis

 

Draco stumbled out of his rooms, exhausted, to discover his and Black's common room had been decorated for the occasion. Harry and Ron were already up, digging under the large fir tree that had appeared overnight, for the gifts beneath and setting them into piles for each of the room's residents.

Draco noted five piles, two of which were rather small.

He sat in the chair usually occupied by Potter or one of his friends, grumbling as Granger tiredly made him a cup of tea and offered it to him.

"Sleep well?"

"No. Trains. You?"

"Quidditch," she quietly replied as Harry and Ron fought over a tin of holiday candies that had no name on it.

Draco and Hermione winced at the noise, wishing only to go back to sleep. Draco summoned a piece of buttered toast to himself, only to find an entire plate came toward him. Hermione smiled. "I divvied up the food before the boys woke so Ron wouldn't eat it all." Draco muttered his thanks as he was handed a fork and ate off the plate in his lap. Nearby, Ron held the tin up in triumph. When he opened it however... all of the chocolate frogs leaped out and hid under the furniture.

Harry pointed at him and laughed before gathering up one of the small piles of gifts and bringing it over to his friends by the food. He laid this pile down by Draco's feet before fetching the next one. This pile went to Hermione, who graciously thanked him as she nibbled the remnants of her breakfast.

Draco noted two plates were already empty. Harry and Ron, he assumed correctly. The final plate lay untouched for now. The plate for his guardian, Tobias. Hermione caught him looking, and sighed. "I tried to wake him, but... he's not ready to get up yet."

Ron plopped down on the sofa beside Hermione, his pile of presents at his feet. The paper was gaudy, no doubt it was very cheap. Draco sipped his tea as Harry brought his own gifts over and sat in the floor, as was his own Christmas custom of sorts, near the fireplace.

"He misses his family," Ron said matter-of-factually. "He had a pretty big one, I think if his drawings are anything to go by."

"I saw those, too," Hermione said as she unwrapped a package from her mother. A new quill set. By this point in the year, she'd already have had to purchase more ink and five new quills... if she had been attending classes and doing her schoolwork. Draco left his gifts untouched and nibbled at his breakfast. "I think the ones by his bed might be his brothers and his wife."

"I wonder what happened to them," Ron said as he opened another gift. He frowned as he held up a lumpy maroon sweater with a large R knitted into it. Harry laughed, until he opened his own gift from Mrs. Weasley. Draco tried to keep his laughter to himself.

"They get those every year," Hermione said with the first genuine smile all morning.

Ron threw it over his shoulder. "And every year we tell her not to!"

"So why not throw them in the fireplace?"

"They don't burn," Ron lamented. "They don't burn, break, wear out, stretch, unravel, tear! Nothing works! And she knows if we've never worn them, even just once! I wouldn't wish these things on anyone."

"I can think of someone," Draco muttered, causing Harry to smirk.

"Two someones. With a large beard and another with no nose!" Hermione suggested.

Harry shook his head. "She probably got the pattern from the headmaster. Apparently he likes to knit. Who knew!"

"Really? Well that's an odd thing to know about him," Hermione said as she opened her last gift. It was a hand stitched journal from Luna. She wondered how Luna, Neville, and the others were doing hidden deep in the castle. She would have to go visit them today. Share some of the cheer if she could. It must be terribly lonely for all the first years, hiding away down there on their first Christmas at Hogwarts. She smiled as she stroked the spine of the book. Whomever had made it for Luna had quite a talent for it.

"Well, when he picked me up at the start of term we visited Professor Slughorn. Professor Dumbledore saw a book on knitting and asked if he could take it. He said he collects patterns for the hobby."

Harry and Ron finished opening their gifts as Draco moved to place his empty plate and cup onto the small table, then collected his own meager stack and moved towards his rooms once again.

"Aren't you going to open them?"

"Alone," he replied quietly. He was stopped by Harry putting a hand on his ankle when he tried to pass him.

"You sure?"

Draco scowled at him and nodded before slipping away. No sooner had he left than Tobias emerged from behind his tapestry. Open robe hastily draped across his shoulders and his trousers hanging low on his hips. Hermione blushed and averted her eyes as Harry and Ron shifted uncomfortably where they sat.

Toby had shuffled to the tree, yawning and growling before stopping to look around. "Draco?" he asked, his voice barely a grunt. Harry pointed back towards Draco's room. Tobias just nodded, bent down to pick up the stack left for him and moved to join them, sitting in the floor much like Harry had.

Noticing their discomfort, he grinned and closed his robe. "At least I'm still wearing pants," he said, reaching for the last plate and digging in before shredding the paper wrapped around his gifts.

Harry and Ron both noted there was a large black and yellow sweater in his lap when he opened one of them. A large T stitched into the front. "Damn it all!" he had exclaimed when he had opened the gift. "How does the woman know!"

"Mom made one for you, too. She probably wants to get on your good side."

"We all get one eventually," Hermione said as she sipped her third cup of tea.

_**o0o** _

 

Parkinson still had not broken. No matter the methods Filch had tried. Never had he needed to try so hard to extract information for the headmaster. The kind, wonderful wizard who found fit to hire him when none else would. To allow him his hobbies, as long as they were put to use for the greater good.

But this one... Oh she was a tough one.

The door of the old, disused classroom had opened and Dumbledore stepped in. The staff members that he had assigned to the task of assisting Mr. Filch had long since left to rest, and would be waking this morning with no memory of what they had done.

It had simply just been a bad dream, leaving them a little more tired than usual.

"Not yet, sir," Filch reported of the girl suspended from the ceiling. "I'd even put her on the rack for a while, when your helpers were here. They patched her up some. But she'll be walking with a limp from now on."

"Anything else?"

"Oh, she's a fighter," Filch said, going to the crank to lower her. "But I always break 'em in the end. One way or another."

"See that you do. Will you require more help?"

He licked his lips as he stared at the unconscious girl ow closer to the ground where he could reach out and touch her if he liked. And oh... he would very much like... His hungry eyes ran over her, admiring the work he had done so far and the pale flesh peeking out from rips in the fabric of her stolen robes.

"Aye, later. There's a few more devices need testing. She'll need patching up after," he said confidently. "Ye'll have your answers by the end of the day."

"See that I do," Dumbledore replied, turning to leave him to his morning's work. "And try not to ruin her face. Her parents may complain, and you will be out of a job."

_**o0o** _

 

Ginny and Lupin had arrived at Gryffindor Tower late into the night. Exhausted with a mixture of pride and disgust. They had found clues to what Pansy Parkinson had been doing under the guise of Ginny. But the experimentation taking place in the shrieking shack... both were grateful the things had been destroyed when they were.

They agreed not to tell the headmaster of their finds, but instead to tell Harry and his friends.

They awoke late in the morning to warm cider, and a modest breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon. A few other students of the house had remained behind for the holiday, and were surprised to see both their former professor and Ginny Weasley among them. All kept their distance as they collected their meals and hurried out of the common room.

Ginny noticed their furtive glances at her, and their hushed voices. Putting on a brave face, she resigned herself to the poor reputation Pansy had given her in her absence. She took comfort in the hideous sweater her mother had sent for her, boasting a giant G on the front. At least someone in this world still held love for her in their heart.

_**o0o** _

Draco sat on the side of his bed, his gifts still wrapped and sitting beside him when there were a knock at his door. "Enter."

The door creaked open and he saw Harry peeking in at him. "May I?"

"Might as well," he replied, waving his hand in his direction. "You know... since Tobias dragged you into our chambers I haven't had a moment's peace to myself."

"I can come back later-"

"It won't do any good." Draco rolled his eyes as Harry stepped the rest of the way into the room, locking the door behind him. He stood awkwardly near the door until Draco gave a dramatic sigh and told him to sit down or leave. "Why are you here, Harry?"

He liked the sound of his name, his real name, his proper name, in Draco's voice... He shook his head, took a deep breath, and began. "We need to talk."

"Here we go... Look, what the Weasel said-"

He was cut off by Harry's simple statement. "He's right."

"What?"

"He's right."

"Think very carefully about what you are saying, Potter," he warned.

"Why?" Nervously he ran a hand through his sleep mussed hair, second guessing himself.

Though it hurt Draco to lie, to refuse to accept this admission of carnal guilt, he could not allow it to happen. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy? It was up to Harry now to continue the ancient and noble house of Black, and for Draco to remove the stains his father brought on the name of Malfoy. They were each duty bound to marry, if not for love then for power and position. To ensure their houses lived on. "You don't mean that," he said, willing his voice to remain calm and even. "And this... this isn't real."

"Your patronus-"

"Potter, the entire time we've known one another I've been trying to outdo you at every turn. It has forced me to better myself. To be better than you. I am a Malfoy. Powerful, famous, and nothing compared to the savior of our world and way of life. My whole life I've wanted to meet you and be your friend. After you rejected me, I admit that I became resentful and hated you. I'm still jealous of you. But you've been a big part of my life. Is it really any surprise that my patronus reflects that?"

Harry thought on this a moment as Draco continued. "But this?" he said. "This can't happen. What you're feeling right now, that's not real. It's a side effect of what we did. Of me messing about in your head. Yes, I saw things there. Things I never wanted to see, that I should never have seen. And you feel close to me because of it. In time as the remnants of the spellwork fades so will this. Whatever this even is. And we'll be right back where we started."

"I'm so tired of fighting with you."

"I'm tired of fighting with you, too."

"When this is over then, when this thing between us is gone and this war is over, you think we could start again?"

"As friends you mean?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised.

"If that's all I can get, then I'll take it."

"Potter... Harry. That's all I can offer you."

_**o0o** _

 

Once Tobias had eaten, and his presents opened and put away, he washed and made himself presentable. Then, offered Hermione his rooms first for her own privacy. Eventually Draco came out of his rooms, sporting a modest attire of a simple button down shirt in dark green and a pair of black trousers. Ron and Harry, once they'd had their turns in Toby's washroom, were at least less smelly and slightly more presentable than normal. All thanks to some well placed transfiguration spells and charms from Tobias and Hermione.

"Now, the feast tonight... I've sent word below for most of the older students to come up and meet us outside the Great Hall. Neville, Luna, and the like. I have spoken with the portrait, and she will let us out in Trelawney's tower where it will be least conspicuous for five people to just walk out of the wall."

"We must present a unified front behind Harry and Harry alone. I've cut a deal with the headmaster, one that if he were to renege on will cost him very dearly. Likewise, if we do not hold up our end... Well, it won't come to that."

"What did you put up to bargain?" Harry asked, but quickly realized he was never going to get an answer.

Soon the five of them were making their way to the Great Hall. Just as they rounded the corner, they saw their friends from the world below rushing down the steps to greet them. Hermione and Luna embraced as Neville filled Ron and Harry in on the welfare of the younger children.

Blaise and his small court of snakes stood nearby. They gave Draco and Toby a curt nod before Harry suggested they hurry inside. As Tobias had instructed everyone, Harry led them with Hermione and Ron at either side. Tobias and Draco followed with Luna and Neville. Blaise and his snakes straggled at the end to watch their backs.

When the large wooden doors opened, the cheerful conversation in the air stopped. A single long table served as seating for their feast. Just long enough to fit everyone around, even the extra guests. Harry stood at the opposite end from the Headmaster, his two best friends to either side. The others waited for Harry to sit before following suit.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Harry," the headmaster called to him cheerfully. "We have missed you, but no doubt you have not missed the classwork."

Harry nodded with a false smile of his own as Tobias, the only guest who did not take a seat, took the boy's goblet and took a sip. He waited, then offered it to Harry.

"Rather severe, do you not think?" Dumbledore asked from his end of the table. All eyes turned to Harry to see what he would do.

"Safe?" he asked without looking at Tobias.

"Yes, your grace," he replied. Harry had practiced not wincing when he heard the honorifics. But this was a carefully calculated power play that Tobias had crafted. They could not overthrow the headmaster in his own school, but they would make it clear that Harry was his own man once again. His equal because he chose to lower himself to allow it.

Harry nodded, sliding his plate towards Tobias, who sampled everything before giving Harry the clear. "We cannot be too careful," Harry said and hoped that Toby's brief instruction in formal etiquette had been enough to keep his voice from cracking and his entire charade from falling apart. "I've been poisoned more than once before."

Eyes turned back to the headmaster, who continued to smile. "Of course. But you will find no enemies here at this table on this day. It is, after all, Christmas. A day of celebration and joy."

Eyes now returned to Harry, who nodded and raised his goblet, now confirmed to be free of any pollutants. "A toast then," he said. "A truce between the Council and the Order."

"Council?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Yes," Harry replied simply. "Houses Potter, Black, Malfoy, Longbottom, Lovegood, Zabini, Weasley, and our newest noble house, Granger. My council of advisers and generals. After all, every leader must have those he trusts most to lead his army into battle. You taught me that, didn't you Professor?"

Dumbledore's blue gaze shifted briefly from Harry to the smug werewolf that stood just behind the boy's chair.

"A Christmas toast," Harry offered again. "Unity against our true enemy, Lord Voldemort." He did not wait for the headmaster to return the sentiment before taking a sip from his goblet, and as one those named as his council followed suit, even Tobias moved to take his proper seat beside Draco and picked up his own, taking a large gulp of the water within.

_**o0o** _

 

Lupin and Ginny had not gone to the feast, instead choosing to go to the library. Madame Pince eyed the student closely before noticing she had an escort. Though Lupin was no longer a professor at the school, the librarian did remember his days as a student. Helpful, polite, and always tidy when he was through. Not once did she ever have to clean up after him or re-shelve any books he borrowed and read.

Because of her escort, she did not ask to see a pass of special permission from the girl.

The two of them hurried to the restricted section and began searching for answers to what they had discovered. There had to be an explanation for it. Some historical precedent. A myth, a legend, an old scrap of a poem. Something, somewhere had to exist. There was no way the girl could have come up with the idea on her own.

They spent all day in there, breaking only to drink water and use the toilet before returning to their task. It was a time like this they both wished for Hermione's presence. She would know exactly what to look for, where to find it.

Just as werewolf and student had begun to despair, they tried one last book. It took the both of them to lift it and move it to the table where they worked. Together they searched the book until they had found what they sought. "Homunculus," Ginny read, brows furrowing. "That's not right... from this description that isn't what we saw. Not really. They were more furry... animal like."

Lupin's blood ran cold. He knew, now, what they had found. Monsters, creatures that had been created by violence and blood and death. Killed in order to be dissected and experimented on. Each one at a differing stage of development. Each one just human enough to... He reached down and ripped the page out of the book. And the next. And the next. Until he had gathered as much as he needed and hid them in his sweater. "We have to talk to Harry. Now."

"Professor... what..."

"If I explained it to you now, I fear you may never sleep again." He shut the book and together they hurried from the library. They were shortly confronted with a silent painting. A dark haired woman clad in simple blue and maroon. Ginny tugged at his elbow to stop him. She pointed to the painting.

Rowena smiled down at them. "Hello again, Remus," she said. "I see you have need of me. Not for another map I hope. You know I don't give up my secrets to easily."

Ginny looked from the painting to Lupin, but the werewolf paid her little mind. "Is Harry-"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"Your dress," he said. "Not red and gold."

"Nor green and silver. Black and yellow."

"Where are they?"

"I cannot say. They left and I've been drifting, as I often do," she replied, moving her eyes only to look at Ginny. "I do not think my charges will wish to deal with that one."

"The girl is with me."

"Then you accept responsibility for her?"

"Yes. This is urgent."

"You may wait inside. No further. All doors save two will be locked to you. A simple washroom and the exit. Is that understood?"

He nodded. Her frame swung from the wall, revealing the hidden passage to chambers that once housed the woman now tasked with guarding them. She slammed closed and receded from the wall as her dress changed to a more effeminate form of Godric Gryffindor's red and gold armor. "Oh, I quite liked this one," she said cheerfully as she faded from view.

_**o0o** _

The tension built up earlier in the evening seemed to melt away in a mixture of laughter and Christmas crackers. Students and staff left periodically, announcing their intent to study or retire for the night. In the end, even Flitwick, a natural night owl, had left them.

Now seated at the table were the headmaster and the core of Harry's faction. Hermione, Ron, Draco and Tobias. The six of them had fallen into a sombre silence, now that those for whom the pretense of joy and merriment were to benefit had left them for the evening.

Talk had turned sour just before the heavy silence began to hang between the two ends of the table.

"I am no longer part of the Order," Harry said. "I swore no Oath, and neither did anyone else left at this table. Ron's mother saw to that for three of us."

"A wise woman, Molly."

Ron flushed from the compliment towards his mother. "That she is."

"And I have no influence over you, nor your friends it seems. Your Occlumency lessons finally made themselves useful."

"I have information you need. You have resources I need. Let's not dance around all night."

Dumbledore glanced at Tobias, giving a glare. "I hear that wolf's words in you, my boy. He's coached you well."

"The words are my own, old man. I've just been given a crash course in negotiation."

"Diplomacy was never your strong suit," was Albus' reply. "You always favored more direct and confrontational means of getting what you wanted."

Harry lifted is goblet, speaking before taking a sip. "I was raised and trained to be a weapon of war, Headmaster. What use was diplomacy when from the start I was groomed to fight?"

At this, Dumbledore nodded, and conceded the point. Harry sipped his drink and set down his goblet. "I want unrestricted access to your information on Riddle and any intelligence the Order picks up on the Death Eaters. I also want the attacks on the students of Slytherin to cease, and the ability to come and go as I please."

"You ask much, Harry. Some information, I can give you. The attacks on the students in Slytherin are unfortunate, and we have made efforts to put a stop to them. Miss Weasley-"

"Ginny wasn't at fault," Ron interrupted him. "We know it was Pansy. And that she was the one that tried to kill Draco. And she tried to send you a poisoned necklace."

"You are well informed, wherever you have been," was the calculated reply. "However you yourself helped to lead the raids on Slytherin house."

Ron was shamed back into silence. Hermione reached across beneath the table with her foot, tapping his before resting it beside one of his own in an attempt to comfort him. Harry, however, remained cold and firm. "He was not in his right mind, as you well know, sir." He spat the honorific like it was poison on his lips. "You will make every effort to end it. And I will assign members of my guard to assist when necessary."

"You lack the numbers, boy."

"I have an entire country willing to lay their lives down for the child that slew Voldemort once, and will do so again. I am loved and adored by hordes of people the world over for stopping a far worse threat at the age of one than you faced at the age of 50." He toyed with his goblet. "Try me, Albus."

Once again, he could not argue this. It was a point he had manipulated himself often enough. Flaunted it, in fact, to ensure many in the Order remained fighting for his cause, claiming that it was also Harry's cause. "We will work together to ensure a safer environment for all students in this castle," he said. Harry gave nothing away, even as his mind raced and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest.

Draco listened, but knew to keep his mouth shut. After their awkward talk of spell induced infatuation and lust, Draco had schooled him on the fine art of negotiation. Or rather, a crash course in how a Malfoy would take charge and dominate the discussion, leaving the table only when his demands were met, and a few more added for good measure.

He had to admit, Harry was at least a half-way decent actor.

"As for allowance to roam freely... that I cannot permit."

"Why not? Rather than simply doing it as I had before, I am requesting it."

"And rather than ignoring it as I had before, I am denying it to you. I cannot give you free reign over this school, Harry. You already receive enough special treatment that the entire school resents you for it."

Harry sat back in his seat, tapping the table in thought. He glanced to Draco, unsure what to do, but when he saw his rival's disapproving look he hid his insecurity.

"If I may suggest," Tobias said in the silence. "A compromise. If caught, Harry will actually be given detention for once. To be served under either Professor McGonogall or Severus Snape. Snape holds no love for the boy, as we are all aware. So it would be misery for both of them to spend time in each other's presence and lend legitimacy to the disciplinary action against him. His detentions with Minerva would allow for the free trade of information between the Order and the Council. To the rest of the student body, it will appear that Harry is finally being treated like the rest of them. This may quell the unrest that has led to inter-house fighting and rioting. This will in turn make it easier to police the students against attacking one another."

Dumbledore stroked his beard in thought. Black gave a good, simple argument. "Agreed. On one condition," he said. "Once a month Harry and I meet-"

"The core of my council will attend. As will your top lieutenants. To keep us all honest," Harry insisted. "And to prevent either of us from going back on our word. The goal here is unity against the enemy. I hold no secrets from my friends and Council."

"No secrets?"

Harry glared at him, and Albus was given a flash of his anger, a taste of the power emanating off him. And he felt the knife slicing through his mind with precision. A single image was forced to the forefront of his mind. A broken, beaten boy on an infirmary cot. His mind altered and changed to forget his ordeal. To hide from him the torment and perversions done to him.

"No secrets," Harry confirmed for him, pulling his rage back and closing his mind off once again. From the corner of his eye, however, Dumbledore saw the young Mr. Malfoy's briefly horrified reaction before the boy could hide it behind his mask again. Interesting...

"I see. No secrets between us. We will work together, for the greater good of our world."

Harry raised his near empty goblet of water for a toast. Albus raised his own. Perhaps he underestimated the power that slept dormant inside his weapon of war.


	34. 33. Memoria Temporales

 

"I have never been so frightened in my life," Harry said, loosing his collar as his friends climbed the ladder to the landing after him.

Ron clasped a hand firmly on his shoulder. "I think you did great! Did you see the look on his face when Black taste tested your food! I was trying so hard not to laugh."

Tobias was the last to climb the ladder, insisting that he bring up the rear as they made their way back to Trelawney's tower. When the four students had all made it to the landing, Toby hurried up the ladder and pulled it back up behind them. He closed the trap door, locking it. Together as a group they moved further up and into the divination classroom, then further into the private chambers of the tower's only resident.

There they found the fire blazing and Trelawney enjoying a cup of warm apple cider.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter, on winning your first negotiation." The woman smiled from her chair, her feet propped up on a stool. "I would invite you all for a warm cup before you retire, but Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are rather tired. The rooms are through there," she said, indicating her personal washroom. "She is wearing a lovely set of armor. Gryffindor's colors tonight. It seems you have visitors already."

Tobias's nostrils flared as he started for the washroom ahead of them, but was stopped by Trelawney calling out to him. "I believe you told the boy he would see his sister today, did you not Mr. Black?"

Tobias froze, then turned slowly to look at the cheerful woman peering back at him over her cup as she sipped. His mind raced. It could only mean one thing. Ginny Weasley waited for them inside. The old witch was happy, however. Did this mean she posed no danger to Draco? To Harry?

Before he could decide, Ron pushed past him with Hermione hot on his heels. The two of them disappeared into the washroom as Trelawney beckoned for Tobias to join her at her small table.

"I also have cocoa for those who dislike cider. A spot of milk for Mr. Malfoy and a hint of mint for Mr. Potter."

Harry and Draco frowned as they cautiously moved closer, confused by Trelawney's sudden seeming sobriety. She had passed through the secret chambers off and on, but never stopped long enough to truly discuss her odd comings and goings with them. Calmly she sat up, offering her foot stool as a seat for one of her guests as she poured two cups of cocoa, and one of cider.

"Did you enjoy the mulled wine and firewhisky, my boy?" she asked as Tobias sat on the stool, accepting the cider as Draco and Harry cautiously sat in chairs close by. They accepted the cocoa she offered. Draco sighing in contentment as he tasted the slight mint on his tongue.

Tobias nodded in reply to her as he sipped his drink. Then lowered his cup to hold it between both his hands as if leeching the warmth from it. "Both were very much appreciated. Especially the whiskey. Did you receive my drawings?"

"They were lovely. Godric was impressed. If you had not become what you are, he believes you could go very far as an illustrator." She smiled and set her cup down. She and Tobias chatted pleasantly between them as the two teens drank their cocoa quietly and listened. The adults talked about gifts, the weather, and more pleasant topics than war before a comfortable silence fell upon them. "If I were just a few years younger..." she said wistfully to him.

He smiled impishly. "And I a few decades older. Perhaps after the war, would you do the honor of traveling with me Sybil? I cannot offer you much in the way of prospects. But I could show you the world."

She reached over and patted his hand. They both knew she would never accept his offer, despite the sincerity in which it had been extended. Her smile was a sad one. "I would like that." She turned her attention to the two boys. "I think your friends have had enough time to catch up in your absence. Refill your drinks and run along now children."

Draco and Harry hurriedly did as they were bid, grateful to shuffle off to the washroom where Rowena's portrait waited for them. Trelawney stopped Toby with a light touch to his wrist. "We have a few more moments left before you need to leave. You are not the only visitors I am expecting tonight."

"The headmaster?" he asked, frowning.

She gave a nod, setting her cup down and rising from her seat. She pulled her shawl tighter around herself and beckoned for him to follow her. "He seeks a secret I cannot give him, and has begun to employ methods even my superior mind cannot withstand. I will be leaving the castle tonight, and will not return until next September."

She brought him to an unremarkable wall - but he knew with this woman everything was remarkable. She tapped the stones in the wall with her wand, revealing a safe. She quickly turned the dial to give the combination and open it. Inside sat two small glowing orbs. "I made three prophesies, not one. One I made in his presence. The second I made when you arrived in the castle. And the third... well... You will see. Take them," she said. From her robes she pulled out her handbag, the one in which she carried all things big and small. She placed the two orbs into the bag and shoved it into his hands. "View one alone, but share the other with the children. I will see you Sussex after the term ends. You know of the place I speak."

"But it hasn't been built yet. It won't be built until after the war is over."

She smiled. "But there is a village, and a pub. I do enjoy a good stiff drink." She put her hands on him, turning him towards the washroom. "Now go. He will be here any moment. He has seen the light in my tower window."

"How will you escape him?"

She smiled and moved her shawl aside, just a little, so he could see the necklace she wore. What he had assumed to be a pendant had actually been a very small broom. "Mr. Malfoy will forgive me for not asking."

"Seers..." he mumbled softly in awe.

"We are always prepared."

He stopped to give her a tight embrace, and an affectionate peck on the cheek. "Thank you. For everything."

"It is not often I meet someone with whom I may freely discuss future events. Now go!"

He hurried to the washroom, just making it inside and closing the portrait behind him when he heard the explosion of wood from the landing. The trap door he had locked behind them shattering as Dumbledore forced his way into the divination tower.

o0o

Upon seeing her brother alive and well, Ginny had leapt to her feet to embrace him. They shared a long hug as the girl cried in her older brother's arms in relief that he was alright. After she released Ron she moved to Hermione, clinging to her and using her friend's shoulder to absorb her tears.

She had related to them her experiences since Harry and Hermione's disappearance. About how Pansy Parkinson had challenged her to a duel only so that she could learn the girls wand movements and mannerisms. How they had at one time come to blows like common muggles - only for Pansy to steal bits of her hair.

Ginny explained that she had found Harry's map and cloak in the hall after her brother had been snatched. The cloak had landed on the map just so, and had she not tripped over it, she would not have found them. These she claimed to have used to help hide in the castle as she worked to gather clues to clear her name.

Once her story had been told, Ron offered one of his own, leaving out certain details after a stern look from Hermione. He held back anything regarding the dark rituals they had undertaken in order to free Harry and Ron's minds from madness. And of the fight between he and Harry over Draco Malfoy of all people.

After the three children had fallen into a companionable silence, Draco and Harry had rushed in carrying to mugs of something hot. Draco tried not to spill his overflowing cup as Harry sloshed his everywhere.

"You added too much milk. Of course it was going to overflow!"

"You poured too much cocoa in, that's why it overflowed. My milk was in there first, then you had to go sloshing the kettle around."

Hermione cleared her throat. When that didn't work, she tried again but louder. Once again, they ignored her as they passed through the room towards the training room. "Boys!" she exclaimed in exasperation at last. "Guest."

Harry and Draco stopped their bickering to look at her. Then upon noticing Ginny Harry beamed brightly... much to Draco's disappointment.

Remus emerged from the washroom shortly after, his face pale and his cheeks nearly as sunken as his tired eyes. As the reunion continued, Tobias slipped into the rooms, grateful for the moment that Remus Lupin's senses had also been dulled from the mystic smoke they had inhaled in the shack. It meant he could not be sniffed out so easily as he hid behind the tapestry that concealed his rooms. However, Draco noticed and silently he set down his cup on a nearby table and removed himself from the discussion and eventually the room. With the younger Weasley there, he felt like an extra squeaky wheel.

o0o

She was cackling. Her mind broken. Her will shattered. She swung in her chains a few feet above the floor. Screaming and flailing and laughing at him. Laughing at his stench, at his rotted teeth and his stringy hair that barely clung to his scalp. At his ragged clothes. At his lack of magic.

She had laughed and laughed and laughed.

Her laughter had been all that had saved her. Her sanity snapping had all that had saved her and left her maidenhead intact.

And when she found he could not do his dirty deed to her, unable to rise to the occasion amid her laughter, she laughed harder, hurling insults at him. Mocking his grotesqueness, and the small, stubby size of his masculinity.

Despite having been denied his personal pleasure, he had broken her. She would talk, if the headmaster had mind to make her. Her mental defenses torn asunder by torture so that his employer may rip from her mind whatever he wished to know.

Filch hurried through the castle to find him, to tell him the good news.

In his haste to escape her laughter and ridicule, he had failed to lock the door behind him.

After finding the headmaster tearing the divination tower apart in search of Professor Trelawney's great secrets, they returned to his torture room to find the chains still swinging in the air and a pool of blood beneath it.

Filch was slapped across the face for his stupidity before the headmaster moved to inspect the puddle. He knelt down, holding his robes up to keep them from the dark red mess, and plucked from the puddle a bit of ivory.

He held it up to the light. "Hollow," he said, inspecting it closely. A hole had been drilled into the tooth, and half of a small capsule had been left inside the hole. He pocketed the tooth and stood. With a wave of his wand, the chains and crank disappeared. The tools of Filch's trade turned back into simple desks and chairs. "Clean this up!" the headmaster snapped as he passed back out of the room, using magic to slam the door closed behind him and lock the groundskeeper inside.

o0o

Draco had let himself into the room to find Tobias in the washroom, staring at himself in the mirror. The state of the man had been half dressed, in naught but his trousers. Face and hair wet from splashing himself with water from the sink tap.

"Too crowded for me," Draco said as way of explanation for his presence.

Tobias nodded, staring at his own face in the mirror. "Feel free to stay in her tonight if you like. We're running low on bed space." He looked so young. And yet... he had already lived what felt three lifetimes.

"Thank you, but no. I do not think they will be staying that long," Draco said. He sat down at Toby's table, curiously examining the potion making setup that sat there. "I can go if you like.'

Tobias considered the offer a moment before shaking his head and reaching for a towel to dry his face. He slung this over his shoulder and joined Draco in his room properly. "No. I think I'd rather not be alone tonight myself."

Draco looked around the room. To the pictures Ron and Hermione had mentioned earlier in the day. Half finished sketches tucked here and there. His roving eyes landed on the pictures beside the bed. "May I?" he asked, indicating the bedside table. Tobias considered the request, then picked up one, bringing it to the boy. He examined it closely. A woman and a young boy. Smiling. Happy.

"My late wife and my son."

"She was beautiful."

He nodded, and moved to sit on his bed. Long legs were pulled up so that he could rest his chin on his knees. His toes wiggling as they stuck off the end of the bed. "That she was. Never had I met a kinder, sweeter woman than my Matilde. Light of my life, she was. Didn't care I like my meat a little more red than most. Or that I growl in my sleep. Wasn't afraid of my... condition."

"She must have been some kind of woman."

"Some kind," he repeated, amazement mixed with sadness in is voice. "This is the ninth Christmas I've had without them. Sherrinford loved Christmas. His aunt, bless her, would get him a new book every year about magical creatures. He adored hippogriffs. They respected him, even though he was so young. Not a stitch of magic in him, but still brave enough to come up to give them a wee scratch on the back of the neck."

"Stupidly brave," Draco said.

Tobias smiled some. "We both had many Gryffindors in our family trees. It was bound to happen at some point," he replied. "What about you?"

"This is not my first Christmas away-"

"But it is your first in exile," he said, but did not mention that it was his first in exile as well... He imagined his daughters were huddled before the fireplaces of Potter-Malfoy manor sipping cider with his cousins. Or sitting in Baker Street with their own cousin and her parents. His children did much prefer his childhood home with the Holmes family.

"Mother's parties..." he said softly. "All the important people. Everyone who had been anyone. They all came to mother's parties. From Yule through the start of the New Year. On Christmas she would have the house elves hang holly and mistletoe from the ceilings and archways. Orbs that made music whenever they were touched. A never ending fount of hot chocolate and expensive treats. Cakes and candies and feasts." He frowned then, as if remembering now that he would never enjoy such luxuries again. Such bright and happy moments now lost forever in his childhood. "But... Not this year," he said softly. "No Christmas punch. No puddings or treacle tarts. Just... a cold gruel and a colder, miserable home."

He set the picture down on the table. "I had been surprised that I received gifts at all this year," he said in an attempt to change the subject. "My parents are in no position to buy me anything, and I am hated by most of our community and school for who I am. Who my parents are."

"It's probably from some distant relations. Or the few friends you have left. Hell, maybe something from me."

"I highly doubt that-"

"You're right. Between cleaning up all your and Harry's messes, saving your lives, and brokering a truce with a malicious sadist, I mean, a school's headmaster I'm surprised I found the time to do anything at all." He reached back and searched his blankets for the bag Trelawney had given him. As soon as he had come to his rooms, he had searched the beaded bag for them, his fingers grazed one and he had seen the vaguest of images. But nothing substantial. He at last found the two orbs in the bag and pulled them out together.

One had his name, his true name, etched into the base. The other... He looked at it closer to be sure.

"What are those?"

"Presents from Sybil," he said softly. "The last two true prophesies she made. She said one had been for me alone. And the other to share."

"Share with who?"

He offered it to Draco, who stood to retrieve it. The moment his fingers touched the orb, he heard... something. Saw... something. He pulled his hand back like it had been burned. "What is this devilry?"

"What did you see? What did it say?"

Draco did not answer, but he did eye it suspiciously as Tobias held it closer to inspect the base. Initials. Initials.

"I think... this is meant for you and Harry," he said as he offered it again. Draco stepped back. "What?" Tobias asked, then it dawned on him the rather personal nature it must have been, his eyes narrowing. "I see. Well then. I suppose there's nothing for it then to simply accept it for what it is-"

"Futures can be changed."

He sighed and shook his head, taking the orb and setting it on his bed beside him. The bag, he knew, was intended for Hermione. He'd read the books as a child. He knew what she was meant to do with it. He would slip it into her possessions later as she slept. For now, it sat with the orbs, waiting for it's new owner.

"But is it a future you want, or a future you wish to throw away? What we do now affects what happens later. Harry himself is proof of concept. The Dark Lord could just as easily chosen Neville Longbottom that night."

"Longbottom?" Draco asked incredulously.

Tobias nodded curtly. "Yes. Longbottom. The prophesy about Harry and Riddle did not name the child. It set clear guidelines and requirements. The range for the birth date. Parents who had defied Riddle three times, and a few other details. But all of these things were known to the Death Eaters and their master. It was Snape who influenced which boy the Dark Lord chose that night."

Draco was silent as he considered this. He had known, of course, that his godfather had been the one to uncover the prophesy at the moment of it's telling by Trelawney in Hogshead. The very same prophesy his father had failed to retrieve months earlier near the end of his fifth year. He knew it had been incomplete as it had been told to the Dark Lord, as Snape had not heard all of it before rushing to tell his master the news.

But he did not understand how his godfather could have influenced the decision of someone like Voldemort. Unless... "He had assumed it was the Potters for some reason. Was it because they had gone into hiding shortly before the prophesy was made?"

"Not quite. Snape loved Harry's mother. They were friends growing up. He knew she had not been in the fighting for quite some time and had worked out that it was due to her having a child with his personal nemesis. He was scared out of his mind, and despite having known about Neville, it was his failure as an occlumens that got Lily and James Potter murdered, and nearly Harry as well."

"How do you know these things? He hasn't even told my father that I am aware of. You can't possibly-"

"Draco, I can use magic to place my consciousness into the minds of others or pull them into my own. Did you really think I wasn't going to ensure with absolute certainty that someone to whom I was risking our lives working with would not betray us? There are certain facts, very painful facts, that Snape and I have divulged to one another in order to prove our identities should either of us be confronted with an impostor. It is something you and Harry have done as well. In here." He tapped the side of his head, indicating the time Draco spent in Harry's mind while they worked to heal his body.

An uncomfortable silence fell between them for quite some time before Tobias broke it with something far less scandalous. "I can tell you about my pictures if you like."

The pair of them talked well into the night. Draco plucking a picture from a shelf, or the mantle, or another table. Tobias explaining, as best as he could without telling Draco too much about the future, who they were in his life and a Christmas themed anecdotes. Draco had fallen asleep in his floor, and so Tobias had gently put him in his own bed after giving the two orbs a new home on his shelf. For now.

He had quietly left the room, seeking to use the training room for a bit when he felt eyes on his back. He turned his attention to one of the chairs by the fire. There sat Remus Lupin, parchment pages folded with his hands atop them in his lap. "We need to speak," the former Marauder said quietly.

"Long overdue," Tobias replied. "But not here."

"Rowena will not allow us further into the chambers."

"Ah... doors locked, eh?"

He nodded.

"No problem then. I'll open the door. This way." He beckoned Remus to follow him. The other man stepped over the sleeping teenagers piled in the floor. He stopped by Ginny briefly to pull the blanket up to her chin before following. Tobias opened the training room door, waiting for Remus to enter first. The other man was hesitant, almost afraid some invisible force would hold him back. However, the doorway allowed him safe passage. Tobias followed him inside and secured the door.

Remus had the parchments unfolded. He used one arm to clear a large portion of the table and laid them out for Tobias to see. "We found this tonight in the library. Ginny and I believe this is what Miss Parkinson has been doing in the Shrieking Shack. We went back-"

"Even though it could have been trapped?"

"Yes. We needed evidence. Clues. And we found a few of what I believe are these." A long finger tapped the illustration alongside the page title. "A Homunculus."

"But those were proven to be a myth."

"So are werewolves," Remus replied dryly.

Tobias nodded. "Point taken." He leaned on the table, taking in all the information before him. Remus watched his face as his frown deepened into a scowl. "Why would she be making these things?"

"She had been attempting to create a hybrid creature. We found fire damaged remains of what appeared to be... wolf cubs. But more... human."

"What?"

"If successful, they would be more savage than the average werewolf he keeps now. If enough of the wolf is bred into it, it would have no sense of self. No understanding of it's humanity. The mind of a wolf in a man rather than a man in the guise of a wolf."

"She had to have had help. A... way to get specimen... I know I didn't."

"Nor I. But it had to be someone with our affliction... and in their beastly form no less."

Tobias straightened, looking past Remus to the shelves of old books and frowned. It may take ages to find the information he needed... if he were lucky Hermione may find it in a few months of searching. "Are you absolutely positive about your find? That she had come far enough with her experimentation that it could pose a legitimate danger to not only us, but everyone?"

"Why else dull our senses? Why else create a trap that if it did not kill us would make us completely incapable of using our full senses? We may have walked past her one day and smelled it in her hair. On her robes or skin. Black, I have not seen creatures like that since just after the first war. So many women and girls lost their lives giving birth to these foul things. There is a reason we must avoid..."

"Mating during a full moon," Tobias supplied when Remus could not bring himself to say the words. "We end up making monstrous bastards... So this was meant to be a way to create an army without sacrificing the pure-blood women and girls who could instead be used for whatever the Dark Lord saw fit... We'll need to consult Madame Pomfrey on this. And find a way to inform the headmaster..."

"I'd rather not take this to him."

Tobias narrowed his eyes at him with another scowl. "What does he have on you?"

"Nothing... nothing of note."

"....don't tell me," Tobias said with a groan. "You were caught with someone. A student? Another teacher? Did you lose control and give someone a bit of a nip?"

"In my defense, it's how we learned an animagus is actually immune to lycanthropy," he said defensively. "And we were both students at the time."

"Are you fucking serious?"

Remus glared daggers at him. Toby's eyes went wide. "Over ten thousand writers just punched the air," he said, causing Lupin's glare to lessen just a little in confusion. Tobias waved it off. "Ah... yeah. Don't worry about that. Uh... common expression where I'm from. It expresses... exasperation and disbelief. Anyway, I just learned way more about you than I ever wanted to know so... Don't tell the Dumble head. Scandal. Heartbreak. Blackmai- er... yeah. Not an actual Black and male but the act of blackmailing someone. Using personal information for some sort of gain. I'll shut up now shall I?"

"That would be best, Black."

But Tobias just couldn't hold his tongue. "So, does Tonks know you and our cousin were-"

He didn't see it coming. He should have, but he didn't. To be fair, he should have shut his trap long before Remus shut it for him.

Tobias woke the next morning alone on the training room floor with Ron grinning down at him."You tried to get him to talk about Sirius, didn't you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the power supply on my writing laptop is fried and the battery on it has been messed up for over a year. If there's more typos than usual, it's because Google Docs doesn't like me, and I have to build up my dictionary in Focus Writer to catch all these Harry Potter names and terms. (The laptop I'm using doesn't have enough memory to put Libre Office on it because it's a glorified tablet.) As soon as I can get my main laptop up and running, I'll go back and run it through my other program to adjust formatting or whatever is needed at that point. Thanks for reading!


	35. 34. Adversus Rem

 

Harry and his friends were arguing with one another over what Ginny and Lupin had discovered the day before. They did not know how to deal with the information. What could it have meant? Was someone like Pansy even capable of doing something like that? She was just a student like them. But then again... some of the things he and his friends had done no student should have been able to accomplish.

"But why do it here? Why the Shrieking Shack?" Ginny pressed them. "It doesn't make sense to do something so... disturbing here at the school! What's more, where did she get them? How did she get them?"

Ron and Tobias came out of the training room, the later sporting a nicely bruised jaw. "I think... I may have some answers about that Miss Weasley."

She eyed him suspiciously. Despite what her brother had told her of the man, she still did not trust him. Nor did she trust Draco. This man was a werewolf. One who had run with Fenrir Greyback, no matter how briefly. No matter what his end goal was. He was dark, and a beast.

"Vanishing cabinet," he said simply, then rubbed at his jaw as if it hurt to speak, to move it even a little. "Peeves damaged it to get on Filch's nerves." He sat himself down at the end of the coffee table since all other seats were taken. He leaned forward some to rest his elbows on his knees.

"My dad told us about those once," Ron said. With this, he gained his fellow student's attention so he continued, using his hands to illustrate his point. "In the first war, lots of people had a pair. They would keep one in their homes and another at a place they thought was safe. When the Death Eaters would come by to pay people a visit, they'd all get in their cabinets and close the door. It was a tunnel between two places. They'd wait out the danger and go back when they were sure it was safe."

"What is one doing at Hogwarts though?" Hermione asked. "And if it's part of a pair, where is the other one?"

Toby frowned. "In the possession of someone we don't want to have it."

Harry nodded, tapping the arm of his chair as he thought about the situation. "You knew about the cabinet, didn't you Tobias?"

"Yes. But I didn't think she'd get the bloody thing fixed. Hell, it's magic too advanced even for me. It'd take Draco all year if he was lucky to get it sorted. When they don't work right, you end up in limbo. Or with chunks missing off your legs."

"I don't think she had it fixed completely," Ginny said. "Missing pieces, right?"

Toby nodded. "That's just a theory though."

"These... these things had missing limbs. Maybe she took some off to examine them, but I don't think... We didn't find any pieces..." She shuddered, trying to push the sight from her mind's eye and keep her morning tea down at the same time.

"Then we may still have time," Tobias said as he rose to his feet again. "I'll dress and set out in search of the Hogwarts cabinet."

"I'll come with you," Harry said. "Two sets of eyes are better than one."

"Harry, I can't let you out there with Parkinson still roaming about freely."

Tobias went back and forth on the matter with Harry until Ginny coughed to get their attention. The pair of them looked to her, annoyed that she had interrupted her."She won't be a problem."

Tobias narrowed his eyes as he looked on her now. "What?"

"We caught her Christmas Eve. She was disguised as Professor McGonogall. Haven't you been paying attention to anything Professor Lupin and I had been saying?"

"Where did you last see her?"

"The headmaster had gotten Verita Serum from Professor Slughorn. After that, I'm sorry but I don't know. I assume the headmaster questioned her. Professor Lupin and I were sent to find the real Professor McGonogall in the lower dungeons."

His nostrils flared as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "On second thought I will need a second set of eyes."

Draco volunteered quickly to join him. Tobias clasped a hand on his shoulder firmly as he passed by. "Miss Weasley, you're free to roam the rooms while Harry, Hermione, or your brother are present. The same applies to Lupin if or when he decides to show up again."

"What do we do in the meantime?" Hermione asked. "We cannot just sit here and do nothing."

"Do what you do best Granger. Research. I'm sure there's something in that library you'll find useful. If not, send a message with you patronus to Luna and Neville. They may have access to hidden stores of knowledge down below." He could not delay, and left them so that he may dress himself.

Minutes later Tobias had emerged from his chamber behind the tapestry in an odd assortment of clothing similar to that which he had worn when he and Draco had arrived at Number 12. He wore a wand holster on his wrist and tossed one to Draco, who caught it and looked it over. "Trust me, you'll need it. Let's go."

Harry moved to follow, but Ron stopped him. The Slytherin and his pet stalked out of the hidden chambers. Tobias may not be able to smell clearly, but he had other tracking methods to use on his hunt.

o0o

Sybil Trelawney had narrowly escaped the reach of the headmaster of Hogwarts. Having the Sight had it's advantages despite the personal isolation it had brought upon her. She rode through the night as fast as she could, trying not to fall asleep on her borrowed broom.

The older woman had nearly crashed as dawn came up over the horizon. She would have had it not been for the woman waiting for her in the trees. A well placed cushioning charm had eased her descent over the clearing until the woman could wrap her arms around Sybil and pull her off the broom.

"A mess you've certainly made of things. But it's to be expected. Come. My husband's put a kettle on for you."

"Thank you, my dear Wanda. It has been a rather long trip from Scotland."

"In one night?! In this cold?! Sybil... you truly are fool. Come along," she said, taking most of the small woman's weight upon herself, in this way helping her to walk into the forest. "Let's get you warmed up and fed. Then you can tell us all about that handsome man we're to be adopting."

o0o

Ginny had watched them go as the others began their tasks. Hermione snatched a few pieces of toast from the breakfast tray still sitting out and headed for a room off to the opposite side of what Ginny had been told were bedrooms. Her brother had sniffed himself before wrinkling his nose, deciding on using the new washroom that had been added in just for Remus and Ginny - to keep them out of the bedrooms no doubt.

That left Harry still in his chair. He tapped the arm of his chair in thought as he watched the crackling fire. This was the first she had been able to be alone with him since that night in the Shrieking Shack. Before he brought Slytherins into the D.A. Before her brother started acting crazy and Harry and her other friends disappeared. He was so quiet now. Distant. When Draco was around he was more lively. The two of them weren't fighting. Even the spat between them the night before, as they had come into the common room, seemed more of a friendly jibe than true animosity.

"Are you truly not bewitched?" she asked, hoping that the rumours she had heard were true. Hoping against hope that what he had told her in the Shrieking Shack was a lie.

He closed his eyes with a sigh as she came to sit nearer to him. She pulled a chair closer. Close enough to touch his hand to still the constant tapping of his fingers. At this he opened his eyes and looked at her. "Ginny, we've been over this."

"But you weren't in your right mind, like Hermione. Like my brother."

"My feelings haven't changed."

"How do you know? You were drugged. Consuming so many pain potions just to be able to function. And your grief after Sirius... You've been through so much Harry and I... I love you."

He pulled his hand away from hers and let it rest in his lap. He met her gaze and hoped she would understand. He barely understood himself. It had only been recently in the last few months that he came to realize why it didn't work with Cho. Why it couldn't work with Ginny. "I love you, too. As a sister. The same way I love Hermione. And Luna."

"Harry-"

"Ginny it can't work out with us. You deserve someone who can love you back, and I'm not it."

"Have you even tried?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"Sure it can. Maybe you just need a little... help."

Harry stood from his chair, Ginny having now started to lean over the arm of it. "Ginny, for the last time, I don't love you."

"Don't or won't."

"Both. Neither. You're... look. You're just not, y'know..."

"I'm not attractive?"

"No, you are. Objectively. Just not to ME."

"Whatever it is, I can change it. Is it my hair? My freckles? Magic can do anything, Harry. I can use a glamour if you want. Hide anything you don't like."

He cringed at the desperation in her voice. He couldn't take this... this blind adoration. He didn't do anything to deserve it. Except... "Is this because I saved you in the Chamber of Secrets? Is this because to you I'm the Chosen One? The Hero?!"

"No!"

"Then why me? Why are you so damned fixated on ME?! There's tons of guys who would kill to just have you look at them!"

"But I don't want THEM. I want YOU!"

"Why me?!"

"I don't know! I just do!"

"Then stop it!"

"I can't!" she screamed at him through her tears. She'd started crying when he had stood to get away from her. She crumpled into the seat he had vacated, her face in her hands as she openly sobbed before him. "How can you be so cruel?"

"I don't mean to be. You know I don't."

"Do I? I thought I knew you before. And then..." she trailed off, waving her arm at the common room to indicate everything. Everything that had happened since the last time he told her he wasn't in love with her. At least then she had been able to convince herself that he was bewitched by someone. Maybe even Malfoy if some rumours she had overheard were to be believed. And then after seeing her brother again, learning of his and Harry's sickness at the hands of the headmaster, she was able to convince herself that he had been drugged. That it prevented him from thinking clearly. "There's someone else, isn't there?"

He sighed and knelt in front of her, putting his hands on her knees and squeezing in an attempt to give her some measure of comfort. "No... Yes.... I don't know. But I do know that it isn't you."

"But why?"

He wrestled with the decision to explain it to her. He had, somewhat, tried to talk to Ron and Hermione about it before everything got so turned around this year. They'd convinced him to let her down as gently as he could that he didn't feel the same about her. That he could never think of her as anything but a sister. But it was obvious now he had to give it a voice. He had to say it instead of suggest or infer it. He had to cement it in reality and make it truth. There was no other way to deal with it. To deal with Ginny.

As she looked up from her hands, she must have seen his grave expression because the hope in her eyes at last had died. "We can't be together because," he said, his palms sweaty. His heart racing. He had changed his mind... he didn't want to do this. He didn't want to say it. Maybe it was just a phase. Maybe he'd been hidden away here too long with only a werewolf, Hermione, and Draco Malfoy for company. Maybe... No. He had to say it, if only to admit to himself it was the truth. "Because you're not a man, Ginny."

She stared at him. Hopelessness turned to shock. Shock became horror. Horror melted into revulsion. Her hand came up and when it came down Harry closed his eyes against the stinging pain of a well deserved slap. It was quickly followed by another before she shoved him out of her way. She sought refuge in the nearest door - Draco's room - to discover it would not open. Across the common room she fled as Harry watched her from where he sat, flat on his ass in the floor and rubbing his cheek. She went into the training room where Hermione currently sat surrounded by books and parchment. The door slammed behind her.

Ron's head poked out of the washroom after the door had slammed closed. His shaggy red hair still damp as steam escaped from behind him. "Safe to come out now?"

"You heard all that?"

"Mate, how could I not. You two shout worse than mum and Charlie when he comes to visit! Take it she wants to skin Malfoy alive now?"

"I didn't say... I'm not... with him."

"Sure you're not," he replied as he stepped out into the common room wrapped in a towel. "You got any clothes I can borrow? All I had left clean was that Christmas get up. Not exactly the most comfortable thing to wear."

Harry gestured towards the two bedrooms. "I've just been rummaging around in what they've got and practicing my transfiguration spells on them. Hermione's helped a lot with that."

"If you don't mind, I'll raid Black's closet. I can't bring myself to wear Malfoy's pants. He's shorter than me anyway. It would look really weird." Harry offered to help, if only to get his mind off his fight with Ginny.

o0o

They had stopped outside the blank wall on the seventh floor. Outside where Draco knew the Room of Requirement was meant to be. Harry and his friends had used it the year before as their secret meeting spot until he and Umbridge had broken in.

Tobias elbowed him. "Don't think too hard about that. I'm sure he forgives you by now. Doing what you had to in order to survive and all that. Same reasoning. Different methods."

Draco nodded, then put his mind to the task at hand. "So you think this is where she fled to?"

"It's the only logical option. She wasn't in the Slytherin dungeons. She wasn't in Gryffindor Tower. We checked the infirmary but no one had been by save for Ginny and the headmaster. The portraits didn't see anyone odd."

"That in itself is strange. The portraits see everything, whether we want them to or not. With so few people in the castle for the holiday you would think they would be able to give a description of every person that passes by lately."

"I thought that was odd, too. We'll get to that next. First thing's first, we need to sabotage that cabinet."

"Why not destroy it?"

"These things are remarkably sturdy structurally. They would need to be for the purpose they served," he said as he began to pace before the wall. He concentrated on what he needed, or rather, what he knew Pansy would need. He'd seen her do this before as he lay in wait to try and convince her that he was sent there to help. Since he had stopped appearing to her in his wolf form she must have assumed he had betrayed her. Especially when he took the cursed necklace she planned to have given to Dumbledore.

A large door appeared, then grew smaller as wrought iron bled through the wood. At last when the door had settled into a single position and shape he went inside with Draco behind him. "You know, I always thought the door would be much larger. It's so different than I had expected."

"Shut up Black," he said as he stared at the mountain of relics and brooms and numerous other artifacts before them. "Let's search for this cabinet."

"This would also make for an excellent teaching opportunity," Tobias supplied as he and Draco began digging through the room. "You're a creature now, of sorts."

"A fact I choose to ignore."

"Bah. Be proud of your Black heritage! It could have been worse. You could have been a common housefly."

"What are you getting at?"

"You have new abilities, Draco. You need to learn to use them. If you shift into your animagus form your sense of smell will be far greater. You may be able to pick up her scent and lead me to her if she's here. Or to the cabinet if she's frequented it enough."

"Is there a way to partially do it?"

"Yes, but only with much practice. Which you've not had. Which you need. And that is why I'm suggesting it now. Away from Harry and the others."

"Tell me something Tobias," Draco called from around a pillar and a pile of chairs. "If you're also a member of the Black family, why is it that you are not an animagus like the rest of us seem to be?"

"Because I've been born of creature stock and a muggle."

"You're a half-blood werewolf. Brilliant."

"Yes. The animagus, er, gift was suppressed," he said as he tried to find the right terms to use that didn't sound too futuristic. "Because one of my parents had been a Nymphae."

"Myths," Draco replied as he came back into view to begin searching a mountain of broken brooms and desks.

"So are mermaids and werewolves. And yet, here I am. And there's quite a lot of mermaids in the lake outside if you'd like to take a peek," he said, moving deeper into the room. "The point is by the time I was born the animagus ability had been bred out of my branch of the family tree. My cousins can do it, but my brothers and sister cannot. We have other gifts from the Blacks though."

"Insanity?" Draco called from behind a screen. "Because that I can certainly believe."

"Our minds. Our intelligence. Our capacity to remember everything we see and experience. Everything we hear and taste and touch. To store that information in our minds forever. Some of us go mad, yes. Bellatrix. Sirius. His mother Walburga. But some of us like your mother find a way to keep our sanity against the Grim. The Black Moods."

He and Draco met one another again near the middle of the vast chamber. "You have these gifts. If you can learn to harness them, to use them against the Dark Lord, then you'll be able to better fight at Harry's side. Make sure he lives so that we, too, may live."

"I can't do it. Creatures... Creatures are filthy, disgusting animals."

"Your mother wasn't. And neither are you. Your aunt Bellatrix was a disgusting common housefly. But your mother... Your mother can transform into a beautiful, graceful, delicate butterfly. Their sister Andromeda? A large, fluffy looking moth."

"And I'm a scaled monster."

"A wyvern. Noble. Powerful. And from what I understand... it's also Potter's patronus. Just concentrate, Draco. You can do this. I know you can."

Ultimately they found the vanishing cabinet without the aid of Draco's animagus form and the heightened senses it brought with it. Tobias had inspected the cabinet closely. Had tested it to discover that indeed parts were missing in the objects that returned to him. After a second inspection he discovered why. There had still been a piece of he cabinet missing. Just a sliver. Just a splinter. But she had managed to nearly completely repair it on her own.

"We need to break off two more pieces," he said. He stood back from the cabinet and pulled out his wand. Draco pulled his own from the new holster on his wrist. Together they aimed at the cabinet, standing a few feet away from it. "On three," Draco said, "We use bombarda maxima. If it's as sturdy as you say it is, it'll only scratch the surface."

"A scratch is a good start," Tobias replied. They counted, and at three together they unleashed hell.

o0o

Harry felt horrible after what had happened with Ginny. He and Ron searched through Toby's wardrobe to find something Ron could possibly wear. They had settled on a plain red shirt and a pair of heavy denim blue trousers. After the liberal application of handy home maker spells Ron remembered his mother using from time to time to adjust some of the second, third, and fifth hand clothes that made their way through all the boys in the family, they fit reasonably well. The shirt was a big snug, but it would loosen with wear they had hoped.

"How are we going to go back to classes after all of this?"

It was a question that had been on Harry's mind as well. Their housemates would want to know what's happened and where they've been. Could they even go back to sleeping in their own beds after this? And what about all of the missed coursework? Surely Hermione must have been fretting over that last one if nothing else.

"I mean, yeah they'll put on a bit of a show with us getting in trouble for a change. But outside that? Too much has happened mate. We know too much now. They're going to be watching our every move. If we all suddenly start hanging out with Malfoy, in public, people are going to have a lot of questions." Ron ran his hand through his hair, leaning against the bedpost of Toby's bed. "People were already talking about you and him before you went off and disappeared on us."

"You'll have to be punished for your part in the attacks." Harry tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. He didn't want to go too far down that avenue of discussion. "And Ginny, too."

Ron sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah... We can't just expect people to not remember that. Especially with most of Slytherin's first years missing. But if we tell the truth the school might close for the term. We're trapped between a rock and a hard place."

"I've been giving it a lot of thought. We need to ask the headmaster to use a memory charm on everyone."

"Are you insane?! That's what got us here in the first place!"

"There's no other way, Ron. Too much has happened that we can't just sweep under the rug alone. We don't know who's done what, who saw what, and who's told who. For all we know some of our classmates went home and told their parents what's been happening."

"If that were the case then the school would have already been shut down by now."

Ron had a good point. And that, too, had worried Harry. There were other students at the Christmas feast. Students not part of his faction. Regular students that had nowhere to go for the holiday. They were delighted to see Harry and his friends, but... "Ron, I have a sinking feeling that we might not have to worry about it being a problem for us to handle..."

"You don't think..."

Harry nodded, and Ron stared back at him in horror. "And you think we can trust him to hold up his end of the bargain?!"

"He has to. He doesn't have a choice and neither do we. We need access to his connections and resources. He needs access to Voldemort's plans and actions through my link with him."

"Yeah. He needs YOU. He's always needed YOU. The rest of us are expendable."

"Not all of you."

"Some of us."

"Ron I can't pretend to have all the answers here. Yes, some of us are expendable. More so than others. But stop and think for a moment WHO. I'm his great weapon. You and Ginny are the children of his most loyal supporters. Your dad works in the ministry. Not a high ranking position but high enough to hear things and report back to Dumbledore. High enough to get access to certain parts and departments. Luna's dad owns a newspaper so there's Dumbledore's propaganda machine. Neville's parents were aurors, members of the old Order. It's in his best interest to keep Neville around if nothing more than to have another meat shield to protect me. Snape is his double agent."

"And Hermione? Black? Lupin?"

Harry did not comment. They both knew the answer to each name.

"So we're all pawns," Ron said at last. "He's playing a large game of chess and we're the pieces he's moving around."

Harry nodded his agreement. "I'm so tired of being manipulated and controlled. Aren't you?"


	36. 35. Sanitatem Processus

 

That mongrel may have coached Harry and the other children against him, but the beast did not have his claws in everyone. The old wizard stood before a small cabinet. The doors were open to reveal racks of glowing vials and a small pool of water. The memories from the evening before swirling in the pool.

The door opened behind him. He closed his cabinet. He would revisit that memory later - Something about Mr. Malfoy's reaction to Harry's show of power had been... off.

He turned with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. "Mr. Finnegan!" he exclaimed bringing his hands together and rubbing them as if for warmth. "I am quite relieved to see you recovered from your ordeal. Please," he said as he gestured to the chairs before his desk. "Have a seat. Help yourself to some sweets. I am all out of lemon drops, I am afraid. But I do have some delicious licorice snaps."

Dumbledore sat at his desk, ensuring his withering hand had been well concealed by his sleeve as he watched Seamus Finnegan pop the devilish candies in his mouth without a second thought. And then, the headmaster waited.

o0o

They increased the intensity of their spells. Stronger and stronger until at last they were able to chip a piece off. Then another. Here and there small splinters, small chips, came off the cabinet.

"No more," Draco moaned, lowering his arm and leaning against Tobias for support. His core was drained. He doubted he could cast a simple summoning charm with how exhausted he had become.

Tobias put an arm around him to hold him up and sighed. "We need to work on your endurance. The enemy will not give you time to rest and recharge. If you're going to keep up with Potter and his friends, you need to push yourself beyond your limitations." When he was sure that Draco wouldn't fall over once he let him go, he moved to collect the chips and splinters they had made from the floor. Halfway through collecting them, he froze. His sense of smell may have been damaged, but his hearing was still rather keen.

"We are not alone," he said quietly, picking up one more splinter. He left the remainder on the floor and pocketed the rest as he stood. The grip on his wand changed. His muscles tensed as he became hyper aware of another presence nearby. He moved close to Draco and used one hand to signal for the boy to remain silent as he listened to their surroundings. "Slowly turn around and put your back to me." Draco did as he was told, and Tobias was grateful to feel the pressure on his back of his partner in crime. Two pairs of silvery eyes looked out into the hoard. Draco spotted movement and let loose a stunner. It hit a chair and shattered the back of it.

"Dig deep in your reserves," Toby said, loosing a stunner of his own when he sensed the next movement. They watched and cast, but Toby knew Draco wouldn't last long after the exertion of working the vanishing cabinet over.

He felt the electric crackle of the air before throwing himself in front of Draco. His protection spell was too slow as the Cruciatis took effect. Pain wracked his body as the haunting laughter echoed throughout the chamber. He had been released but drained from the fight. Behind him Draco deflected as best as he could the attack, trying to protect his guardian. His friend.

"The cabinet!" Tobias wheezed. "She's trying to get to the cabinet!"

Draco had put up a magical shield, one that Tobias had taught him in the training room. One he had practiced for hours alone, demanding of himself perfection. They were all that stood between her and the broken vanishing cabinet. "I'm going to lower the shield," he said, gripping his wand tightly. "But I don't have the strength to finish her. It's taking all I have to keep her from killing us."

"I'll try," Tobias said, staggering to his feet and flexing his fingers. His wand helped to focus - but focus was not what he needed right now. It wouldn't be strong enough. He needed it raw - needed it as unfiltered as possible. "On three,” he said, and began the count.

As Draco lowered his shield, Pansy unleashed a spark of green. Tobias roared as loud as he could, from as deep in his chest as he could muster. He couldn't kill her - that much he knew. She still had a purpose in their future; in his past. But he could maim her. That much he could safely do. The words that came from his lips were lost to the howl of the wolf, but it threw her back, crashing through the hoard.

He lowered his arm, his palm scorched and smoking from the release of raw, wild magic. His chest heaved as he staggered forward, doubled over.

"Toby!" Draco gasped behind him. The wolf stood up straight and turned quickly. His wand on the floor. But he wouldn't be able to get it fast enough. And at such a close range...

Pansy gave a sickening gap-toothed smile as he tightened her grip on Draco's throat. She brought her face close to his and licked his cheek, savoring the saltiness of his sweat. With her other hand she held Draco's wand tightly, ready to be used.

"Pansy... you don't have to do this," Tobias said as he started to edge closer. She sent a red spark to the floor at his feet. He stopped dead in his tracks. "Please, you're not like this."

"Like what?" she snapped angrily. "You did this to me!" she exclaimed. "It was meant to be HIM!" She tightened her grip. Draco's eyes started to roll into the back of his head. "It was supposed to be HIM!"

"I can't change what they did to you. But I can help you. Help heal your mind."

"My mind? My mind?! You, a werewolf, want to help me?!"

"Yes. Please, let me help."

"Like you helped Daphne just now?" she smirked. "I think I heard her neck snap when she crashed. Can you heal that?"

"If she lives, quite possibly," he said, stealing a quick glance at Draco. "You don't have to do this. You can still walk away."

She brought her wand arm up to her face and used her teeth to pull up her sleeve. She exposed the bottom portion of the Dark Mark seared into her flesh. "He chose me when the traitors fled. I am no coward," she spat. "If I cannot kill the headmaster, I can kill the traitors. Bring honor back to Slytherin."

Tobias lunged for her. She let go of Draco and leapt for the cabinet as the werewolf changed his target so that he may catch his charge before the boy hit the floor. "Pansy! Don't do it!"

She shut the door of the cabinet as he cradled Draco in his arms. He knew from her screams that she was gone. Gone to the other side wherever it may be. He closed his eyes, trying to will his imagination to cease showing him what deformities it may give her, knowing he was at fault now for ensuring further damage to the cabinet. He shook his head and looked down at Draco as he checked for a pulse.

o0o

Ginny had been so inconsolable that Hermione was forced to summon Luna Lovegood from the hidden foundations to help her calm the girl. She'd sent her patronus with her message, and was relieved to see a rabbit sent back to her that seemed to speak with Luna's voice.

Godric Gryffindor had appeared on the wall of the training room before swinging open to reveal the passage behind him. Luna and Hannah had come as support. Hermione quietly explained the situation to Luna in the corner who seemed to understand the problem. "I'm so glad Harry's accepted it. He always looked so lonely... Well. Now you all know why."

"How could you have known?"

"Oh, I always know. I'm Luna. I know everything," she said cheerfully before adding. "And the nargles told me," she said with a smile. "We'll take her down below for a hot meal and tea. Get her away from Harry and calmed down."

"Thank you Luna. I wish there was something I could do for her, but she's been muttering about... Well... it's not exactly acceptable for Harry to, well..." She blushed, unable to say the words herself.

Luna nodded her understanding and patted Hermione on the arm. "It won't be like that forever. You'll see."

"Because you know everything," Hermione said sarcastically.

Luna shook her head. "No. I just trust that Harry wouldn't be the way he is without him finding happiness. Now, let's go help Ginny calm down."

"Thank you. I can't have her distracting me from my-"

"Oh you're coming, too. We have an entire library down there at our disposal. Salazar Slytherin’s other secret chambers. I'm sure you'll find what you need in his dusty old scrolls." Hermione excused herself briefly to find Harry and Ron and tell them she was going with Ginny and Luna down below.

o0o

Tobias dragged Draco through hidden passages. He could not risk Rowena or any other portrait portal to appear within the Room of Requirement. Not knowing if the room were still compromised. So he did the next best thing. He brought Draco to the infirmary and once again into the care of Madame Pomfrey.

When they arrived she had just finished straightening the last cot to a chorus of screams. Tobias dropped Draco unceremoniously on a fresh cot with a grunt and turned his attention to the screams.

"Their bodies are... purging," she said to answer his unasked question. "They've been fed poisons. Many of them. I cannot give them proper treatment with so much coursing through them already."

He looked to Draco asleep on the white blankets and nodded. "I will help if I am able. My father was a muggle doctor. From experience I've seen many of the symptoms are similar among muggles and wizards in times like this."

"I don't think..." she began but did not finish. This strange man who had brought her more trouble than he was worth had come back from the dead right before her eyes twice now. He had helped to tend to the boy that now lay on the cot nearby when any magic used to help the boy would have killed him. Perhaps he could be of some help. Her duty, first and foremost was to the welfare and health of the students. Her loyalties to the headmaster be damned. "Come this way. I trust you know your way around a mop bucket."

"Yes ma'am I do. What about Draco?... He can't be left in the open..."

She nodded towards a curtain behind her desk. "Those are the private rooms, for those with more delicate conditions. He will be safe there." She then indicated a small hallway. "I have the others down there. The secure hall."

"Secure hall?" he asked. By the time he had attended the school, he did not think such an area of the infirmary existed. Then again in a year and a half the castle would be left in ruins. It wasn't unreasonable to believe they simply neglected to put the infirmary back the way it had been before the war.

"For the dangerous ones," she said. "Be careful Mr. Black. Young Mr. Goyle likes to aim his vomit at the hair." Rather than levitate her newest patient, she went to his cot, used a charm to add wheels, and pushed him towards her desk. The curtains parted and revealed a short hallway with a few sparse rooms. When she came back into view she had another cot, empty and fresh, to replace the other. "What are you standing around for young man. He'll be fine. He just needs a good rest and plenty of fluids. I don't know what he's been doing but the poor thing has nearly exhausted his magical core. Now shoo. Those rooms won't clean themselves."

o0o

Harry and Ron peeked out from the tapestry after Hermione told them she would be leaving. The common room was empty of visitors. "Wonder where Lupin went off to," Ron said as they came out from hiding. "You think he went to look for what's making those creatures?"

"Maybe," Harry said, then got a great idea. "Let's head back to Gryffindor tower. We can ask some of the portraits on the way what they've seen over the term." Ron agreed as Harry summoned his map and cloak to him... to discover they were nowhere in the chambers. A frown crept into his features before Ron suggested Remus must have had them.

Together the boys set off across the castle. Rowena, having overheard their conversation, had deliberately set them at the opposite end so that they may ask more than a few portraits for information. As they made their way through the castle, not getting anything substantial out of any of them they felt like they were being followed. Watched. And yet when they looked, no one was there.

"Stick close," Ron said, checking his wand in the back pocket for the hundredth time. "You might have made peace, but that doesn't mean we're safe here anymore."

Harry nodded. They walked on, checking classrooms and corridors as they went. And yet the feeling of being watched did not pass until they were at last inside the Gryffindor tower. The pair of friends had not gathered much information, and many of the portraits, especially those near the tower, were overjoyed to see him again. None of that compared to the shock and excitement of his housemates whom had remained at the school for the holiday.

o0o

Remus had seen her appear in the corner of the corridor. When the two boys had stepped out and she swung back closed her dress changed hue once again to her normal Ravenclaw house colors. It was a marvelous magical feat he had yet to puzzle out the how and why. She had been a great comfort to him during his school years. A quiet place to study where his friends would not find him. And later when he came not as a student but as a teacher, she hid him away within her warm and comforting walls to keep him and the children safe from harm.

He turned his attention to the boys and followed them in secret beneath Harry's cloak. Watching them he made a note of what they were doing - and the lack of response they received. He would have to go back himself and do more poking around. If they could learn why the portraits wouldn't tell Harry what they knew then they may discover other Hogwarts secrets as well.

Once he had followed them safely to Gryffindor tower he turned his attention to his true task. To root out Pansy Parkinson's compatriots. The girl had done so much that could not have been possible on her own. How many of the students in the castle now showed their true faces and how many were hidden behind magic and potions? That was why he took the map, for it was designed to show who is who beneath their masks.

o0o

Snape was summoned from Spinner's End late in the evening the day following Christmas. Arriving at Malfoy Manor he had assumed he had been summoned to explain himself before the Dark Lord about the sudden change in Narcissa Malfoy's condition. However he discovered it was not Lady Malfoy who needed his expert hand but another hysterical female.

A girl, a child, to be exact.

He had trained himself to remain impassive over the years when faced with even the most grotesque of injuries. And this was indeed grotesque. "You there," he snapped. "I will need an assistant. Strong stomachs?" Two women nodded. "Follow me," he said, stalking through the manor as he made his way to the parlor turned medical suite. He did not relish his role as the designated field medic. Not in the first war, and not even now. But knowledge of potions, both deadly and healing, had it's price and value. It saved him from much of the fighting the first time around. Instead he spent much of the first war patching together those who did the fighting.

And now... He stopped at the door to the rooms housing one of his own students. One he had told the Dark Lord would not be up to the task put before her. But the stubborn old fool had insisted. "How long ago?"

The wolf guarding her room blinked at him in confusion. So he clarified. "How long ago was she brought here, you idiot mongrel."

"Hours ago I suppose," was the growled reply. "Popped right out of a cabinet down at Borgin and Burke's she did. Her face all twisted and-"

Snape ignored him now and turned to his new assistants. "Are you alright with blood?"

"I'm not," one said.

To her he replied, "The potion stores in the basements. I need essence of dittany, blood replenisher, milk of the poppy, and anything silver."

"Silver, sir?"

"She has been in contact with werewolves at the school. We cannot rule anything out," he replied. "Now go." He reached behind himself and opened the door, breaking the silencing charms placed on the room to muffle the girl's agonizing screams.

He pushed up the sleeves of his robe. The woman followed him inside and swallowed hard. The girl couldn't have been older than her own daughter, Daphne. "I will need you to bind her," he shouted to be heard. "While I examine her injuries! Can you do this?!"

She nodded, swallowing hard again. She pulled out her wand and cast the only spell she could think of; one that created ropes to restrain and tie the girl down. Once he had been sure Pansy was secure, he moved closer, sweeping over her with his wand and muttering softly the charms to tell him of internal injury. He discerned that some of her internals had become... twisted. Moved out of place and causing her excruciating pain. He cut away her clothing to give her a proper examination and even had to turn his own face away a moment in disgust. Her pale skin mottled and broken. Large swaths of discoloration across her abdomen.

Soon his second assistant arrived with a tray laden with potions and brews. Things he had asked for and others that looked familiar that she felt may be useful.

Snape took a piece of the girl's robes and ripped it off into a smaller portions. "Soak this in dittany and lay it across the left half of her face. Press it firmly, flush against the skin to close the wounds," he said as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. The second assistant did as she was told, handing the tray to the other woman who set it down.

"Milk of the poppy," he said, hand out. The bottle was placed in it, already decanted. He poured one third of the bottle into the girl's mouth. "Massage the throat to ensure she swallows."

When he was satisfied that it had been done, he recalled powerful healing spells he had learned many years ago in his youth. Spells that, had she known to what use he was going to be putting them, she would never have taught them to him in their childhood. He worked throughout the evening, his assistants following his orders to restrain and administer as he performed the incantations and spells to untangle the girl's insides.

o0o

He had finished cleaning the mess in the secure rooms a while ago. Now he stood staring through the slot in the door at the teen-aged girl inside. "There is not much we can do for them without knowing exactly what they have been taking," Madame Pomfrey said to him as she came up. "We can make them comfortable. Ensure they do not harm themselves. But until their bodies have purged..."

"I... have dealt with a similar situation recently. If I am permitted to examine them, take samples of their blood or hair, I may be able to create a potion to counteract what they have taken."

"I confess I am not as proficient in potions making as I ought to be, though I do my best. Normally I would be consulting with Severus, or as of this term Horace."

"So why haven't you?" He slid the panel in the door back into place before moving to another and looking inside. "Consulted them I mean."

"Horace is trying, but his knowledge of poisons and addictives is academic only. Severus understands the practical uses due to his, shall we say, troubled background. I understand that you are from the continent? Perhaps where you are from they have other ways and methods."

"My muggle father was a doctor," he said. "Often he and my mother employed the muggle sciences in their work together. In my training I have endeavored to do the same, carry on their work in my own way."

She considered his words a moment. She stopped him with a gentle touch to his arm as he closed the panel to move on to the next door. "Your muggle ways can help save these children?"

"I believe so."

"What do you need, Mr. Black? I will get you anything that is in my power as a ministry licensed healer to acquire for you."

"Actually, I need only a safe space to work away from the headmaster and prying eyes. I have my rooms, of course, but I need a space closer to the patients. Some of the potions and tests are very time sensitive. I can move my essential equipment here. If you have the time, my work is quite delicate and would require an assistant. You can learn my methods and my recipes to help others in your work."

"You would share your recipes?"

He nodded giving her a soft smile. "Of course. Despite what many are led to believe I really am only here to offer my help when and where I am able."

She gave his arm a squeeze before letting her hand fall back to her side. "I will find you the space you need. Have your supplies here by nightfall. I want to work on these children as fast as possible. The sooner we have them to their old and happy selves the better." He nodded his agreement and turned to go. She caught him again with her words when he reached the end of the small corridor. "Tell me, Mr. Black. Those you recently helped like this, were they... Were they Potter and his friends?"

He stopped, turning his head slightly to show her he heard her words. He said nothing and continued onward, another ally richer in Potter's struggle for independence.

o0o

Harry and Ron didn't think they would ever get away from the common room. They had agreed in advance on a cover story about Dumbledore needing him for important missions to do with the Order. Super secret stuff and the like. However they found it wasn't needed. Most of them apparently were under the belief that because of all the times Harry had been attacked at school he and his friends had all been given private rooms.

Some were jealous of the special treatment. Some were relieved, as they'd had some sense of peace in Harry's absence.

Another oddity they would have to look into. Harry, for his part, was just glad to be sitting on his own bed. Surrounded by his own things. And wearing his own clothes again. They were debating on whether or not to pack up their trunks and return to Draco and Toby's shared accommodation when Seamus arrived, throwing himself down on his bunk with a groan.

"So good to be back in me own bed!" he had moaned blissfully.

Maybe one night in their own room wouldn't be too terrible a thing. They could sleep on the decision. And it would afford Harry some time away from Draco to examine and give thought to everything that had happened so far this year.


	37. 36. Decisions & Consequences

 

The two women ran out ahead of him, pale and shaking from what they had seen. True, they had partook in their fair share of murder and mayhem. Had killed before. But neither of them had tortured. They had always performed quick, efficient kills. Their fighting had been done with wand and not their hands. Not up close.

Not like this.

Snape came out of the room, wiping his hands with a rag before tossing it to the werewolf waiting outside the door. Within the room the girl had been moved to a more comfortable place before a roaring fire to keep her warm. Anger simmered just below the surface as he stalked from one end of the manor to the other, seeking out the girl's parents whom he knew would be there. With their daughter chosen to replace his own godson's role in this war, their status had been elevated within the ranks. They now occupied the coveted position Lucius and Narcissa once filled with pride and devotion.

When he threw open the doors of the parlor at the start of the Dark Lord's private chambers, the lively chatter had fallen to silence. The higher ranking members had been summoned without him and were planning a new series of attacks.

"Severus, so good of you to finally show up," Bellatrix spat. "It took you long enough."

"Scarlett. Thaddeus," he said. "May we speak in private."

The Parkinsons looked at one another briefly before excusing themselves to join Severus in the corridor. As he explained to them the state of their daughter, Thaddeus became very quiet. His face very stern. His wife Scarlett fought to contain her emotions, demanding to see her daughter. Severus would not allow it just yet. Not until the child had gotten enough rest for him to try and examine her mind.

"There is no more I can do for now," he said, resting a hand on the shoulder of Thaddeus Parkinson. "You can take her to hospital but there is not much that can be done for her now except to observe and wait. I have used the strongest healing spells that I know. I have dosed her with milk of the poppy to ease her pain and allow her to rest, but I cannot guarantee that she can be completely healed from her experience both in mind and body."

o0o

Tobias and Madame Pomfrey worked long into the night setting up his work station in the infirmary. They had converted one of the private rooms rather than one of the secure rooms. Tobias trusted the witch, but he did not trust her employer. It would be very easy to lock him away in one of those rooms and claim he had become feral like his lupine brethren.

He was grateful to be working in a room with natural light shining in from a window high upon the wall. He had nearly forgotten what the light of the sun felt like. When a knock on the open door came, it was not Draco as he had expected but another visitor. Tobias turned his head and the sunlight seemed to kiss his dirty blond hair just so. "Remus. It's been a little bit."

"I've brought in another patient," he said. "Another Slytherin student."

"Drugged and poisoned like the others?"

"Possibly. Broken neck, and a few broken limbs," he said solemnly.

Toby schooled his features, all attempt at cheer leaving him and replaced with the calm impassivity his family had been known for. "I see," he replied. "Is Madame Pomfrey-"

"Has her sedated. I carried her here, as she had lost the ability to walk. Whomever attacked her certainly held nothing back."

"It was kill or be killed in there," Tobias replied, turning his back to the other man and setting to the useless task of straightening test tubes that need not be straightened. "I am relieved that she is alive."

"You did this?! And you didn't even go back to check on her?!"

"She attacked. I defended. My chief concern is the safety of Draco and Harry, no one else."

"And yet here you are attempting to save the lives of others, despite nearly killing a child."

"Why are you here bothering me now? To torment me? To lecture me about the value of innocent lives? Give me the stern talking to as one of Harry's friends? You've not liked me since the moment I showed up, and I get it. I really do. You don't trust others like us. You despise us. You hate yourself. I come swanning in, stinking up the place and you think I'm ready to challenge you for alpha dog. You can keep it. I don't want it. I just want to do my job."

"Your job."

"Same as yours," Toby said, glancing over his shoulder. "And if you really can't trust me, I'll meet you in the forbidden forest next full moon. We'll duke it out dog to dog. I've got no interest in fighting you, but if it's the only way to get you to believe me then I'll fucking do it mate."

o0o

Harry didn't get much sleep. He had tossed and turned in nightmares before finally giving up and sitting in his bed. He had drawn the curtains around his bed so as not to wake Ron with the lumos cast from his wand as he read one of his school books. There was little else to do during the night than to dwell on the events of the last few months and his shifting perspectives. Though text books on ancient runes and transfiguration weren't particularly thrilling subjects they did keep his mind off other things.

It wasn't until well after dawn that he heard his roommates start to stir and return to the land of the living. He kept himself quiet, unsure if he should alert them to his presence or attempt to sneak out for a quick shower. After catching a whiff of himself the decision had been made for him.

As quietly as he could, he gathered his things. It had been a while since he'd used his real toothbrush, his own bathrobe. It was nice not having to concentrate on transfiguring something into the tools he needed just to take a bath and get himself clean.

Harry left as Seamus groaned in his sleep, begging for five more minutes before he absolutely had to get up.

o0o

Draco woke in a panic state as if from a nightmare, eyes darting to and fro as he slowly realized his surroundings. He touched his chest, feeling the raised scars beneath the fabric. Closing his eyes he willed his breathing to slow in hopes his heart would do the same.

Then, after a few slow and deep breaths he opened his eyes. He did not recognize this sparsely decorated room. A cot, a small table, and an uncomfortable looking chair. No window. No way to see what time of day, nor where he may be. Quickly he swung his legs off the bed and touched bare feet to the floor. He felt around the bed for his wand, unable to find it. Panic once more began to set in, but he forced himself to push it aside.

The last thing he remembered was fighting. He put his hand to his throat next with a wince. It wasn't a dream. It actually happened. The girl that had been his best friend... There was no time to think about that now. He bent over to feel around at the edge of the bed. He found his shoes, the socks tucked into them. He pulled them on, then the shoes. He was on his feet and at the door in a matter of moments, having to unlock it from his side before carefully looking outside.

A corridor. At the far end a curtain the same shade as the one he knew to hang behind Madame Pomfrey's desk. The infirmary then. He heard voices and ducked his head back into the room. He kept the door cracked, and himself pressed against the wall to peer out as best as he could.

From this angle it was difficult to see, but a man stood in a doorway on the opposite side of the hallway. He waited until the man had gone before slipping into the hallway. He needed to find his wand. That was his chief priority, then he could look for his werewolf.

As quietly as he could he moved, attempting to edge around the open doorway to keep himself out of sight until he reached the curtain. He felt eyes on him as he reached up to pull the curtain aside and leave. In one swift movement he turned, a hex rolling off his lips with his hand extended as he had done so many times in Harry's nightmares. The hex was deflected by the other man, just barely, who held a tray of potions with his other hand.

Draco stood staring at Toby, who remained behind the shield of translucent white aura. "I'm impressed," was all he said. "Your wand's back there at my potions table," he said as he allowed the shield to drop so that he may take the tray with both hands again. "I didn't want anyone wandering off with it."

"I-"

"You're getting better with wandless magic. Keep practicing," he said before coming closer and maneuvering around Draco. "Well, don't just stand there. Go on. I've got work to do so you're on your own for a bit. Get some practice in and I'll test you later."

Tobias disappeared through the curtain. Draco had turned to watch him, and stood staring after him. He moved his attention to his hand, staring at it like it were some strange new discovery before heading back to the open doorway to fetch his wand.

o0o

Harry passed Ron and Seamus on his way back from the showers, stopping Ron long enough to tell him he would be going to the Great Hall for breakfast.

He dressed quickly and searched for his school bag. He wasn't sure if they were going to return to Draco's hidden rooms or not but it did not hurt to be prepared. His school books, minus the textbook for Potions, were crammed into his bag with a change of clothes. A few other personal items from his trunk were tossed into his bag before he had been ready to go.

His stomach rumbling, and his body aching from lack of sleep, he took the fastest route to the Great Hall. His goal such as it was, had been to try and return as much as he could to normal. After all part of the point of the Christmas feast appearance was to establish himself back in the school.

He couldn't protect anyone if he stayed hidden.

He couldn't stop Dumbledore from mistreating his fellow students if he continued to play the coward.

Harry had ignored the stares as he entered the Great Hall. He ignored the whispers as he picked through foods he thought may still be safe for him to eat. Foods that he normally wouldn't eat and so there would be no need to poison them.

He still sniffed everything, and had been wary of all the food before muttering a few spells Tobias had taught him in their hideaway. "Veneno Testado. Drogoj Testado." Spells to check his food. To test his drinks. When the anticipated effects did not appear, he finally took a sip of water and a bite of bland food. Ron and Seamus joined him soon after. Harry quietly told Ron which foods were safe to eat, and told him he would teach him the spells for it later. Just go with it.

Ron was disappointed he couldn't have his beloved bacon. But he felt it was best to listen to Harry's advice. Besides, he could always raid Draco and Toby's supply later on.

Quietly Harry and Ron discussed their plans for the day. "Everyone comes back next week. We need to have a plan in place for the new term. How are we going to handle an entire year of Slytherin house going missing? We need to bring the D.A. factions back together. And make a decision about that thing from last night."

"What thing?" Seamus asked, leaning in some.

"We're trying to decide if we should come back to the dorm or not. We've all been missing for a while, so suddenly appearing like nothing's happened is going to be really hard to explain. Especially when the entire school knows we've been missing classes and everything."

"Well," he said as he scratched his head in thought. "We still need to figure out what happened at the Shrieking Shack to me, Lupin, and Malfoy's mutt."

Ron's eyes widened some in surprise. He didn't know... then again there was a lot going on at the time. Harry nodded, which caused Ron to transfer his wide-eyed stare to Harry now. "You knew?" he asked.

"I went to visit Black and Remus. Seamus was hit by the same thing they were. We're lucky Black was with them."

Seamus agreed. "I owe him my life. He got us out of there pretty quick."

"It nearly killed him from what I was told," Harry said quietly.

The three of them continued discussing their plans for the day. Ron filled Seamus in on the Christmas feast since he was still in the infirmary. Remus and Tobias, it turned out, were up and about faster because their creature metabolisms allowed them to heal faster. That and Seamus got a face full of the smoke before Remus had, having been closest to the trap when it went off.

It was decided that Ron would go with Seamus back to the Foundations where the other students were hiding out. Check in with Hermione, but mostly to check on his sister after the bad news she got from Harry.

Harry on the other hand, decided to go out and visit Hagrid. The half giant had not been at the feast, and he knew the man would be worried sick about him and his friends. From there, he said he would rejoin the others. They did need to hold a council meeting as soon as possible in order to figure out how to handle the start of term.

o0o

When Luna and Hannah had led Ginny and Hermione down into the depths of the school she did not know what to expect. She remembered the long trek she and Harry had taken in the darkness, following the light of Draco's patronus as it sought out Professor Snape. While the one she and Harry had taken fit only single file, she was able to walk with the others two at a time.

Hannah led the way as Luna walked with an arm around Ginny in comfort, speaking softly to the girl to keep her from getting hysterical again. "It shouldn't be too much farther now," Hannah called back to them. "I see the torches ahead."

The four girls quickened their pace. Hannah and Hermione put the light of their wands out when at last the light had reached them. There had been a large painting. One Hermione recognized quickly. Hannah whispered the secret words to it so she and Ginny could not hear and it swung open. The silence of the dark corridor was broken by the loud laughter and shouts of children.

Luna pulled away from Ginny briefly. "Wait here," she said. "Most of them will be afraid to see you. Hannah and I will explain to them that it wasn't you, but someone disguised as you, okay."

Ginny nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Hermione reached over to take her other hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It'll be alright," she said, trying her best to comfort her friend. "I know it's been a lot going on. You've been through so much, and now... well..." She tried to make light of it as best as she could. "The lazy git never had a sense of tact or timing. He's the sort to be late to his own funeral."

Ginny barely gave a nod as they waited for Luna or Hannah to return. When the portrait swung open again Hermione could see Neville standing beyond Luna. "Come on then," he said. "We're getting ready to put the lot of them to bed. There's a spare cot for each of you in Luna and Hannah's room if you like. Dobby brought down cocoa for the kids. And some butterbeers for the older ones."

Hermione let go of Ginny's hand as the girl went back to Luna, sobbing once more. She hid her face as Luna put her arm back around her friend, leading her to a corridor off to the side of the ancient common room.

"Wow..." Hermione whispered, taking in the entirety of the chamber. "This... where in the castle even is this?"

"From what we figure," Blaise said from behind her. "It's deep in the foundation. Somehow there's plants to give us air. The stones somehow filter the toxins from the air. I believe this may be some sort of secret shelter in times of war."

Hermione sat for a time by a large glowing stone in the center of the large chamber. It radiated heat as if it were logs burning in a fire. She marveled at it, having walked around it to examine the stone carefully. Curiosity had gotten the best of her and she reached out to touch it expecting to be burnt. The stone was cool to the touch. "that's impossible..." she whispered.

Neville, Blaise, and Hannah returned from putting the children to bed. Hannah had laughed. "We thought so, too. Everyone that sees it has to touch it," she said with a soft laugh. Neville offered Hermione a drink. The four of them sat late into the night talking. Catching up on what had been going on between her adventure with Malfoy in Ron's mind and the Christmas feast.

There was much to discuss. It was well past one in the morning when Hannah had begged off, rather tired from everything that had been going on in their hidden world below.

"Why are you really down here?" Neville had asked her when the three of them were alone. "It can't be just because of Ginny."

She looked around with a frown before taking the parchments she had taken from the training room. "Luna said there's a library down here I may use. We need to find something, anything to combat this." She offered Blaise the parchments, as he was closest to her. He looked the pages over before passing them to Neville. "We believe Pansy Parkinson was experimenting with versions of these creatures bred from werewolves. And that she had been sneaking them into the castle and out to the Shrieking Shack to... examine them."

Neville frowned as he gave the papers back to Blaise, who passed them back to Hermione. "How? There's no way in and out of this castle except through the passages on Harry's map, the front gate, and the floo in the Headmaster's office."

"That's... not entirely true. In fourth year Harry was able to talk to Sirius Black in the Gryffindor common room using unauthorized and illegal floo," she said, then shook her head. "That's not how we thing she's done it though. Black believes she is using a vanishing cabinet. One that was broken a few years ago that she has since repaired."

"Does he have any proof?"

"I think he and Draco went searching for her after she was revealed to be in disguise as Professor McGonogall."

"As well as Ginny," Neville said as he thought. "Are you alright on night watch alone tonight?" he asked Blaise beside him.

"Yeah, seems a quiet night," he replied. "If I need help, I'll call one of my girls out."

Neville stood, beckoning Hermione to follow him. He went to a wall and took down two cloaks. "It's cold," he said. "There's no heat where we're going except for the heat we make when we get there."

"Why?"

Neville shrugged. "It keeps the scrolls and relics in good condition I suppose," he replied. Beside the cloak hooks was an empty, ornate silver frame. He tapped his wand to the stonework and spoke a strange few words. He glanced back behind them before lighting up his wand tip and pulling the hood of the cloak up to protect his head. Hermione did the same, the wall closing up behind them after they entered. The further they went, the colder it became until she felt she would freeze to death.

She and Neville huddled together for warmth as they walked in the darkness. "Not many of us come this way," he said. "Blaise and Luna usually. But I thought you might be more comfortable with me instead. Never go there alone," he said. "It's a large place and it's easy to lose your way between here and there."

As if to illustrate his point to corridor opened up wider, giving the choice of three more directions to take. Neville shined his light down each of the tunnels before stopping to hold his wand up higher. "It changes each time, you see," he said. "The only time Hannah came with me she was spooked by a skeleton. It... wasn't a pretty sight to be honest."

"I'm sure it wasn't."

"So cold he still had... well, I try not to think about it too much," he replied. He gave the strange words again. A cold gust of air blew out of the path to right, and it was down this tunnel Neville led her. This went on a few more times. And each time Neville would inspect the tunnels, speak the words, and they would travel down the coldest route. At last, they came to a large stone door with an iron door knocker, shaped as the crest of Salazar Slytherin.

Once more, Neville spoke the words and the snakes in the knocker moved. Some strange mechanism inside clicked and the door moved inward. "Lumos Maxima!" Neville called out, his voice echoing in the large chamber that lay beyond the door. He and Hermione stepped inside.

Walls lined with shelves hewed into the earth itself. Columns decorated with winding, intricately carved snakes amid cubbies housing scroll after scroll. This was perhaps the largest library she had ever seen in her life - and it was here at her school. Hidden away in the very foundations. Untouched for over 1000 years.

"Blimey..." she said, borrowing a word from her friends. "It's... it's..."

Neville had already left her, the door grinding shit behind them. He set to work on starting a small fire for them to keep warm. "I told you it was big," he said, taking off his cloak and rubbing his hands together after the fire sparked to life. "There's a bit of it behind lock and key that we can't seem to get open. We think it might have been his private rooms. We've been able to see through the keyhole a little. It looks like the place was ransacked and locked up. But the rest of the library is untouched, save for what we've looked at."

"Is there any sort of system to know what information is stored where?"

"None that we've been able to figure out," he said. "Come warm up, and then I'll show you around so you get an idea of the place before you poke about."

True to his word Neville showed her around after she had warmed up some. He showed her a section that he had figured out dealt with elemental and herbal magic. Another that housed books and ancient scrolls of potion lists and ingredients. As they walked through the cavernous chamber, she examined shelves. Carved into the stone were symbols that, at first, she had not recognized.

"Neville, come look at this," she said after a while. She pointed to a set of symbols, then another set on another shelf. "I think this may be Greek."

"Greek?"

She nodded. "I've seen symbols like these before in some of the historical texts in the restricted section. If we can translate them into Latin, we may be able to sort out what information we'll find where. There are common letters that if we can discover which symbol represents them, it will be easier to crack the code."

"It could take all night."

"Well then, we had better get started."

She and Neville worked through the night, not knowing that dawn had come and gone until a tray of food appeared near the fireplace where they worked. It had appeared so suddenly that Hermione had nearly thrown the book she had been examining into the fire in surprise.

o0o

Draco lingered in the make-shift potions chamber until he heard shouting from down the corridor. Now armed with his wand, placed back into the holster Tobias had given him, he rushed out from behind the curtain to find Madame Pomfrey and Remus Lupin holding Daphne Greengrass down on the cot to keep her from flailing about as Tobias poured something down her throat.

He was at the man's side and took the bottle when it was handed to him. "Secure hall, last room on the right," Tobias barked at him. Draco looked around, spotting a corridor and heading down it. He nearly slid when he stopped before the room he was ordered to. He opened the door moments before Lupin and Tobias carried the girl, screaming, into the corridor and straight to the room. Madame Pomfrey on their heels and carrying another bottle. He recognized this one as blood replenisher.

He stood in the doorway, listening to her screams, then the screams of those in the rooms neighboring her. He recognized the voices. One of the doors near him shook hard as heavy fists beat against the wood. The occupant screaming, shouting to be let out.

"Elevate the head!" Madame Pomfrey ordered as the two men tied the girl down to the bed with the heavy straps. Daphne screamed again, this time causing the three adults surrounding her to fly backwards away from her.

Draco ran inside, thinking quickly he cast Protego to keep from being blasted back by her magic. He used it as a shield to get closer to her, taking the potion Madame Pomfrey clutched tightly along the way. As he got closer, Draco realized he would need his other hand free in order to use it for another spell.

But he had to give her the potion.

There was nothing for it but to lower the shield and hope he had enough time. Only a short spell could do it. Nothing too long, not too many syllables. Then he remembered one he witnessed Tobias and Severus use on Potter and Granger before.

He got as close as he dared, took a deep breath, and lowered the shield. "Soporis," he said loudly.

The screaming stopped.

The girl in the bed went still.

Tobias struggled to sit up across the room, a large grin on his face despite the situation. He seemed almost... proud.


End file.
